


Anna Elizabeth's Two Faces

by Livkit



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livkit/pseuds/Livkit
Summary: Written for the 2017 Kristanna Secret Santa. Following a sort of breakup, Kristoff meets two different women; a sex worker called Elizabeth, and his neighbour, Anna, who needs a complete rebuild on her home...





	1. In Which They Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Punkpoemprose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punkpoemprose/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Disney owns Frozen, Tangled, and the Fairy Godmother from Cinderella, as always.
> 
>  **In Explanation:** I anonymously asked Emily, "I'm kind of good at smut, crazy AUs and unhappy endings, does any of that spark your interest?" and it did. Except she would hunt me down for a happy ending. In the end, I had to call it quits and present part I, for making it a complete one-shot would have meant delaying the posting even more. (Yes, I'm currently working on part II.)
> 
>  **Thanks To:** frenzy5150, who served as beta for this monstrosity, and idunscrewedup, who listened to a lot of "well now what?" issues.

Friday, August 4th, 2017.

Kristoff stared at the pretty blonde sitting across from him.

"I thought everything was fine," he said. "And now you want to break up, Rapunzel?"

"I wouldn't call this a breakup," Rapunzel said. "We agreed to couple up for things as needed, because neither of us had anyone else, and we somehow got into a friends with benefits situation, but come on, I was never in love with you, and you were never in love with me." She paused. "Were you?"

"Well, uh..." Kristoff ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "Damnit—"

"If the next four words out of your mouth are my name and 'I love you', I'm leaving," Rapunzel said.

The attempt at levity did much to clear the air, and Kristoff shook his head, grinning. "No, it's not that. I was blindsided, that's all. We _said_ that if we found someone serious we could part as friends—and I'd like us to do that still!—but I guess I expected something a little more gradual than 'hey, I'm getting married in less than three months so we can't fuck anymore'." He paused. "Is that why we've not been doing anything for four months?"

"Sort of," Rapunzel said, "however, for much of that time, you've had an insane amount of business that doing anything was pointless, even if Eugene hadn't been in the picture. And if you haven't had business, you were moving into your new place, and trying to decide if you were going to knock it down and rebuild."

"The next door neighbour might want to think about that, too," Kristoff said. "I haven't told her because I can't figure out a way to tell her that doesn't sound like I'm after her for business."

"Have a barbeque or something, amd she'll be too busy eating free food to complain," Rapunzel said. "So you've been busy, and I'm very good at wake-up blowjobs, or so I like to think, as you've never complained—"

"Because of course I'm going to complain when a woman has approximately thirty-two teeth near a sensitive part of my anatomy," Kristoff said, but he was grinning.

"Oh, you ass," Rapunzel said, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling. "My point is that you've been so busy that the last time I tried anything with you, it was a wake-up blowjob, and you were too exhausted to wake up. If anything, you've only gotten busier since then, so our sex life kind of took a backseat to life in general." Her eyes dimmed. "I... I hope we're still friends, Kristoff."

"Of course we aren't," Kristoff said. "We're best friends."

* * *

"Are you going to drink that?" Sven said, sitting at the bar.

"How'd you find me?" Kristoff said, staring at the glass full of amber liquid.

"Rapunzel told me, dude. Where else would you be?" Sven reached over, quaffing Kristoff's glass. "But yeah. What a bummer."

"You know what sucks about it all?" Before Sven could answer, Kristoff told him. "Our sex life was crap because business was booming. Business is dead right now; has been for over a week, and there's nothing coming up in the future, either."

"Never fear, though, for your man Sven has the solution. The ultimate solution is to find a new girl, of course... but first, we need to get you laid so you don't think with your dick."

"Doesn't that require me to think with my dick?"

Sven opened his mouth, made no reply, and then shook his head. "Kristoff, you're my friend, and I know you're hurting. So as kindly as possible, we can argue semantics or we can get you laid. Which do you prefer?"

* * *

Anna tucked Elsa into bed with her ice blue Teddy & Friends bear, named Deakin, pressing a kiss to Elsa's forehead.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well, sweetie. I've left you a glass of apple juice on the bedside cabinet, and the babysitter will be here if you need someone. You'll feel much better if you fall asleep, though."

"Uh-huh..." Elsa sneezed, and blew her nose on the tissue Anna held out. "Night, Ah-ah."

Anna smiled, and turned on Elsa's Vanellope von Schweetz nightlight. "Night, Sa-sa." She slipped out of the room, closing the door, and after checking her phone, Anna went to her room, putting together her bag for work. She checked her phone again as she finished, and she carried her bag to the door, opening it.

"Your doorbell suddenly doesn't work," Eugene said. "I was about to try knocking."

"In the last year or so, nothing in this house seems to work anymore," Anna said, stepping back to let Eugene inside. "Except me, and if I don't hurry I'll be in trouble. As Elsa's come down with one of the many bugs children seem to get, I thought it wiser she go to bed early. You know she usually sleeps through the night, and that shouldn't change even though she's sick. As always, my emergency number is next to the phone. Do you have any questions?"

"No, though my fiancée has an ex who runs a business fixing up places," Eugene said. "Shall I leave his number under one of your fridge magnets?"

"I guess it can't hurt to get an estimate of what it'd cost," Anna said. "Thanks. I've got to fly."

* * *

The building was several stories high, with a rather drab grey paint job starting to show its age on the outside, so Kristoff expected nothing much for the inside, and was startled to find a decorated lobby.

"Welcome to Holly's," a young woman said. "Do you have any preferences, or shall I just have the ladies come and introduce themselves?"

"Your ultimate plan is me going to a brothel!?" Kristoff said, trying to keep his voice low.

"Don't worry, I'll pay for you," Sven said.

"You think I'm so hard up I have to pay for it!?"

Sven, ever unflappable, sighed. "One, I've said I'll pay. Two, I have no doubt that you could go out of here, go to a bar or club or whatever, and pick up a girl who'll be up for some sex—but you're always telling me you'd like to find a girl who'll let you stick it up her butt. A fair few of the girls here offer that as an extra—"

"You'll need to hurry if you want that," the young woman said. "Only one lady on tonight's roster offers anal."

Kristoff sighed. "And you think some time here will prevent me doing something stupid like rebounds?" At Sven's nod, he sighed once more. "Well, fine, can I see that lady, then?"

"I'll have Elizabeth come and collect you," the woman said, looking over to Sven. "And for you, sir?"

* * *

Sven had opted to have the available ladies introduce themselves, and so Kristoff followed Elizabeth up the stairs. She wore horn-rimmed glasses, a tightly clinging green dress and silver heels, and her red hair fell in loose curls to midback. The dress was cut to show off her breasts, though Kristoff had forgotten them in staring at Elizabeth's perfectly formed ass. Elizabeth stopped at a door, ushering Kristoff in before stepping over to a small lamp set about hip height and flicked the switch.

"I just need to check your genitals before we can proceed, sir," she said. "Would you like to talk about what you'd like tonight?" She knelt, and deftly undid his jeans, pulling his boxers down. Her hands lifted up Kristoff's cock and balls as she carried out the inspection with the aid of the lamp. "Jen, the receptionist, said you'd be interested in anal. I also offer kissing, roleplay, smoking, toys, lesbian doubles..."

Kristoff swallowed hard. "Um... kissing sounds good."

"And how long would you like to see me for?"

"Is there, uh, a standard?"

"Most clients book me in hour blocks. The longer you book me for, the more fun we can have. I understand your friend's paying? You could spend three hours with me."

Kristoff nodded, and Elizabeth stood up.

"Get a shower, and I'll go see about your friend's payment."

She was back before Kristoff was done, and Elizabeth began to strip her own clothes off as Kristoff towelled himself dry. When she was done, she came over, handing Kristoff a breath mint, popping one into her own mouth.

"Well... what do you want first?" Elizabeth said, her blue eyes filled with mischief, and offset by the smoky eye makeup she wore.

* * *

"Why do you work here?"

Elizabeth laughed, keeping up the light massage. "The money's good, for one," she said. "As long as I work during my shifts, I'll take home at least twelve hundred—and that can go up to as much as four grand per shift if clients want the extras I offer. I can't get that kind of money from any other job in this economy." She grinned. "Also I love sex.... but as the girls told me when I started, loving sex is almost a requirement. Around November, we always seem to get an influx of girls who want to make some 'easy' cash for the holidays, and they don't last. That was how I got started—it wasn't the holidays, but I needed some easy cash. I found I liked the work, so I stuck around."

"What about girls being forced—?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "All I can tell you is that as far as I know, everyone here has freely chosen to work here. A few months back a couple came in, and she was scared stiff of him, kept looking at him before answering questions. Now, there are things clients want, and I don't judge them—but I won't do them. Every girl has her list. She never said no. They went through the list of extras, and the guy wanted to know how much would be charged for each extra. He had a big shit-eating grin as the prices kept going up. At the end, the owners said they needed her bank account to pay her earnings into, and I guess he forgot where he was, because he fucking flipped on her when she didn't volunteer his bank details."

"Wow."

"Here's a piece of free advice; if you come back and see another girl, you might not want to ask their reasons for it. In my experience, there isn't a sex worker alive who doesn't want to be left alone by people who think we who have freely chosen sex work need to be rescued from it."

Kristoff entered a period of contemplative silence, and Elizabeth leaned down, whispering. "Now, we've still got plenty of time, and I wouldn't mind another ass-fucking..."

* * *

Thursday, August 17th, 2017.

If she was looking back on the event, say, twenty years later, Anna thought she might well laugh, because it had played out like something in a comedy. As she stood in the shambles of what had been her cabinets, however, she was finding it difficult to not burst out swearing. She stalked over to the refrigerator to get a drink, and she saw the card Eugene had left her.

 **Bjorgman's Building and Repairs**.

Figuring she had nothing to lose, she pulled out her phone, dialling the number.

"BBR, Bjorgman speaking."

Anna frowned; something about the voice sounded familiar. She shrugged it off. "I'm looking to get a quote for a complete home renovation. I believe the house is structurally sound... but everything else is very literally falling apart. Not even five minutes ago, I closed one of my kitchen cabinet doors, and the entire thing fell apart."

"I see." From his tone, it seemed he didn't believe her, but Anna supposed she wouldn't have believed it either. "Well, I've no other business, ma'am, so I can be over there as soon as traffic permits."

She gave him the address, adding, "Do you know how long you'll be?"

Thirty seconds later, her power went out, and she heard, both in her ear and from the front door...

"JESUS FUCK THAT HURT!"

"...wait, what?"

"Your doorbell just electrocuted me."

"That's what blew out the power," Anna said. "Well, that's about par for the course with this house."

She went to the door, opening it, and stopped in her tracks as she recognised her client from a couple of weeks back. She hadn't asked the guy's name, nor had he volunteered it, but here he was in the flesh. She was a little creeped out, despite the fact that she had called him to come over—although, that was a way to look at it; _she'd_ called him over.

He stuck out his hand. "Kristoff Bjorgman, ma'am, of Bjorgman's Building and Repairs. Apparently I live next door."

Anna searched his face, and saw not one iota of recognition. Well, she supposed that made sense; she wasn't naked, and her clothes weren't as upmarket or revealing as what Elizabeth wore, even if it was summer. She extended her hand. "Anna Dellarene. You'd best come in."

"You were saying the entire house is problematic, Miss Dellarene?" Kristoff said.

"I'll just give you a tour and save my breath," Anna said. "Follow me, Mr Bjorgman."

Anna wasn't sure what to make of Kristoff's hmm'ing and ah'ing, but she took him through the entire house. When they got to the kitchen, Kristoff looked at the collapsed cabinets with a calculating expression, before kneeling beside the wreckage, picking up pieces. He threw a piece down with sudden disgust, and turned to Anna.

"Miss Dellarene, how and when did you get this house? When was the house built? And by whom was it built?"

"I inherited it from the parents about three and a half years ago," Anna said. "They had it built about six years ago, just before my little sister was born. I don't recall the company offhand... some Dutch name, I think."

Kristoff pulled out his phone—a Samsung Galaxy S8—and started tapping the screen. "Would it have been Westergaard Quality Construction?"

"That was it... why does it matter?"

Kristoff handed his phone to Anna, and she saw he'd pulled up an article from around the time of her parents' deaths. She read through it, her jaw dropping.

"I imagine you were too busy with your parents dying to follow this up at the time," Kristoff said. "Feel free to get a second opinion, Miss Dellarene, but I hope you understand why my professional recommendation is that you should demolish and rebuild." He looked up something on his phone, and then quoted a number. "If you go with my business, that's what I charge for demolishing. The quote for the actual house will depend on what you want to go with."

Anna nodded, thanked him, and showed him out, before pulling her own phone out and dialling her lawyer.

* * *

Friday, August 18th, 2017.

Kristoff was reading when the doorbell rang, and he opened the door to see Anna on the doorstep with bags from a local Chinese place and a miniature in blonde. She thrust the Chinese at Kristoff, storming inside in a huff. Kristoff looked at the Chinese, down at the miniature, and then up and back toward Anna.

"What's going on?"

"Ah-ah annoyed," the miniature said, following after Anna.

Kristoff tried to suppress his grin at the cute nickname, and was mostly successful by the time he'd made it to the kitchen, where he saw Anna poking about in the cupboards and setting the table, generating a lot more noise than necessary as she did.

"My lawyer says she can get me my share of Westergaard's Quality Construction without too much trouble—apparently a sum was set aside for my parents to collect, and it hasn't been so long yet that I can't get it. I didn't really pay attention to all the legalities once she confirmed I'll get the money," Anna said, throwing some coasters on the table. "That takes care of the financial side of a new home, although getting a new house built is fucking impossible, because I've contacted each of the four companies around here, and none of them will work for a teenage slut who couldn't keep her legs together!"

Kristoff blinked, speaking carefully. "I assume you're quoting someone else's words there, but what does that last piece have to do with anything? And I told you, I work construction, my company can do it."

"I tried your fucking company right off the bat, and your fucking receptionist was in my year at school, so she fucking knows Elsa's my sister, and yet has bought into the goddamn neighbourhood belief that she's my daughter! And even looking up the direct numbers for your other employees didn't help, because they're just as sure that I'm a slut! One even said 'begone to the pits that raised you, teenage whore of Babylon'!"

"...would you like a glass of wine?"

Anna nodded, and Kristoff went to fetch a bottle from his wine cellar. He spent a few minutes debating, deciding on a Riesling, and went back up to find Elsa sitting at the table as Anna filled a plate for her. He poured wine for Anna and himself, and sat down, looking over at Anna.

"How did you know I like Chinese?"

"With three different Chinese places within walking distance in the neighbourhood, I figured it was safe to assume the entire neighbourhood liked Chinese." Anna reached over, taking a glass and sipping the wine. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got one of those things where they give you a quarter-portion of each of the most popular dishes. Plus extra special fried rice. Elsa loves it."

Kristoff and Anna loaded their own plates, and for a quarter-hour, they ate in silence, only asking for plates to be passed around, and when Kristoff judged Anna to have calmed down somewhat, he set down his cutlery.

"You want to hire Bjorgman's Building and Repairs, Miss Dellarene. I'm not sure this is in your best interests, as I'd like you to go home after—it's too late for lunch and too early for dinner—the meal, and document your experiences with my employees. At the bare minimum, I'll have to issue reprimands, although according to your earlier statement, I suspect there'll be at least one termination of employment."

Anna nodded. "Why should I go with someone else?"

"Because I expect that within an hour of opening Monday, I'll be the sole worker on site."

Any further conversation was stalled by Elsa reaching for her drink, whereupon she knocked the plastic cup over. Elsa burst into tears as chocolate milk went everywhere, and Anna took a deep breath. Kristoff glanced between the sisters, and knocked his own wine glass over.

The three of them looked at the now flooded tablecloth.

"Accidents happen," Kristoff said, standing up. "Best not to worry about them, I've found."

* * *

The meal concluded soon thereafter, and after setting Elsa up with Wreck-It-Ralph on her phone, Anna came back, crossing her arms.

"You deliberately knocked your glass over."

"You were going to yell at Elsa over an accident. Looked like she knew it was coming, too."

Anna stared at Kristoff, before slumping against the wall with a groan. "I feel so much like Calvin right now."

"Calvin?"

"My job requires me to relate to people," Anna said, "and yet, I'm related to people I don't relate to."

Kristoff still looked lost, and Anna sighed. "Okay. I'll bring you over my most prized possession: a hardcover slipcase three book complete collection of Calvin and Hobbes. But before I do that, I... I'd like a favour, if it's not an imposition. Would it be okay with you if Elsa and I lived with you while the house is built?"

Kristoff stared at her. "I... um... can I get back to you on that? Maybe Monday, and we can sort out the contracts for demolishing and building at the same time, assuming you still want to go with me?"

"That's fine," Anna said.

* * *

Kristoff stepped inside Holly's, looking at Jen, who stood there, like always. "Is, uh, Elizabeth working tonight?"

"I'll see if she's available," Jen said, and she disappeared down a hallway. She returned a few moments later. "She'll be available in about fifteen minutes, sir. Will you wait, or shall I have the girls who can see you right away come out?"

"I'll wait."

Twenty-five minutes later, Elizabeth was on her knees, her tongue running over Kristoff's cock before she took a deep breath, and took his cock into her mouth, going to the balls in a single, throat-clogging motion. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and Kristoff groaned as she sucked, sliding her tongue around the shaft.

"Fuck, Elizabeth... oh, fuck, I wanted some advice..."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, never letting up on the sucking, her cheeks hollowing in and out.

"If my neighbour and I combined our blocks of land—" Kristoff shuddered, watching Elizabeth's lips wrapped tightly around his cock "—we could build a bigger and better house than either of us have currently. But how do I suggest that without sounding like a total creep?"

Elizabeth blinked, letting Kristoff's cock pop out of her mouth, her hand wrapping around the shaft automatically. "You couldn't have asked me something like 'how do I convince my girlfriend to let me fuck her ass?', could you?"

"Is the fact that I don't have one relevant?"

"It's information that you'll use in the future," Elizabeth said, taking the cock head into her mouth and sucking hard for a few seconds as she kept pumping. "As for the neighbour, how well do you know her?"

"Uh... she's good looking, and dresses super casual, she has guardianship over her sister, although almost everyone else says it's her daughter. I don't care either way, honestly."

Elizabeth took him back into her throat again to give herself some thinking time. The idea wasn't entirely horrible, she supposed. A bigger house meant more space for Elsa, and more land meant potential luxuries like a pool. Elsa had voiced her approval of Kristoff—or rather, her approval of his knocking his wine glass over—so she didn't think there'd be issues there. The big issue was financial: while she was certain the Westergaard Quality Construction money would get her a reasonable house in full, going in with Kristoff ran the risk of forcing her to delve into extra funds to cover her half of expenses.

She looked up at Kristoff with her patented slutty look, sucking especially hard, and Kristoff gasped, his cock pulsing as his orgasm hit. Slowly Elizabeth pulled off, and with deft fingers, she pulled the condom off, disposing of it before using a handful of tissues to clean Kristoff off.

"I'm not sure how to best present it," she said. "You could suggest that her little sister having more space to play in would be nice, I guess?"

"Okay, I'll try that." Kristoff paused. "Um. Elizabeth? How _do_ you convince a girl to let you fuck her in the ass?"

Elizabeth grinned, and hopped up. "Listen up!"

* * *

Monday, August 21st, 2017.

Kristoff walked into BBR Monday morning, glancing around at his team: one receptionist, one architect, and four workers. It was all he needed; what the team couldn't do got subcontracted out. "Meeting in the conference room, everyone!"

He strolled in after them, and held up a piece of paper. "Everyone recognise this?"

"Looks like a contract," the receptionist said. "So?"

"It's part of a contract," Kristoff said. "Specifically the contract part that says, paraphrasing a little, you won't lose us clients by acting like a fucking dickhead."

His team blinked.

"Suffice it to say that a client that I personally promised we'd take on lodged formal complaints against each of you, and given the language quoted in them—does 'begone to the pits that raised you, teenage whore of Babylon' ring any bells, Miss Aschen?—I'm inclined to believe them as written. The lot of you are fired. You have ten minutes to clear out your desks."

He saw them out, turned the sign to closed, locked the doors, and sat down to contemplate what came next—which seemed to be taking Elizabeth's advice. Pulling out his phone, he called Anna.

"Oh, for fuck's sake this must be the twentieth sales call today, and it's not even ten am. Fine, I agree to whatever you're trying to sell me."

"Uh... it's Kristoff. Is now a bad time?"

"It's as good a time as any," Anna said. "What do you need?"

"We should sit down together to formalise the contracts now that I've fired my people, and perhaps make a start on plans. I know you've got to plan around Elsa and work, so when's good for you?"

"I can come into the office now, if that helps?"

"That'd be great." Kristoff summoned his courage. "Um, I was wondering. You own your place, and I own my place. What would you say to demolishing both houses, and going in together on building a bigger, better house? If nothing else, Elsa would have a bigger yard to play in."

"...when I said I'd agree to anything, I didn't imagine it'd be that," Anna said. "Yeah, sure, we'll talk more when I get to the office."

* * *

Sunday, September 17th, 2017.

The one drawback to going in on the house together was that they no longer had a place to live during construction. Sven offered his apartment, but Kristoff declined without even asking Anna—two bedrooms, plus a roommate who brings home a different girl every weekend does not a home for three adults and one child make. However, they did have a bit of time before that became a concern, as before any demolition could take place, the contents of both houses needed to be sorted, and boxed up according to criteria of 'donate', 'keep', and 'throw out'. Being only six, Elsa wasn't at all helpful, and so the majority of the work fell to Kristoff and Anna.

Anna was on a break when the doorbell rang, and when she answered it, her jaw dropped. Her former babysitter stood there with Kristoff's ex—or so she assumed, from the descriptions she'd heard of Rapunzel.

"Kristoff! Rapunzel and Eugene are here!" she called back into the house, before turning to them. "Do you have time to come in?"

"We do, as we're just dropping off invitations," Rapunzel said, tilting her head to look past Anna. "But it doesn't seem as if you do."

"We'll be glad of a break; we're packing up to demolish and rebuild," Anna said, and she stepped back, waving them in. "Would you like a drink?"

They declined, and the four adults gathered in the living room, Rapunzel and Eugene handing invitations to Kristoff and Anna.

"I hope you can make it," Rapunzel said. "Are you two dating?"

"Nope," Anna said. "Apparently Westergaard's Quality Construction built my house, so I needed to demolish and rebuild, and Kristoff was going to do the same with his house whatever I did, so... maybe in some universe it made sense to go in on it together. Still don't know if it's this one or not."

They all chuckled.

"Well, I've heard of Westergaard's," Eugene said. "Run by a stuck-up Danish ponce, I believe. Good luck with it. As for the wedding, dates aren't required, but do let us know if we need to plan for them."

"We'll let you know as soon as possible," Kristoff said. "We've got to find a place to live while we're building, and I at least would like that resolved before thinking about dates."

Rapunzel and Eugene exchanged looks.

"My—our place is going to be empty for the next year," Eugene said. "Rapunzel and I are taking a yearlong honeymoon so we can visit all the countries that we won't be able to once we have kids. We've actually got an appointment with an agency later to put the house up as a future rental, but if you want to take the place, it'd save us a lot of trouble."

Anna and Kristoff looked at each other, shrugging. "It's worth checking out, I suppose," Anna said. "It'll depend on what rent you want, of course..."

"Rent? Forget about that, I'm not charging you any," Eugene said. "Hell, if you like any of the furniture, you can take it with you for the new place you're building."

"...wait, what?"

"You can't afford that," Kristoff said.

"My family owned several companies before the plane crash that killed them, and in the last six years I've started two companies of my own and sold them for half a billion apiece," Eugene said. "Trust me, I can."

"You sold two companies for a billion dollars total," Anna said, her eyes wider than Emma Pillsbury's. "Why did you come and babysit Elsa for what was essentially pocket change!?"

"You needed help," Eugene said, rather matter-of-factly. "And I needed the pocket change. But mostly because you needed help."

Anna fainted, and Kristoff managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

* * *

Friday, September 22nd, 2017.

"Elizabeth?" Kristoff said, hands cupping Elizabeth's tits. He tweaked the nipples, smiling as Elizabeth gasped. "Does Holly's provide longer term things, like outside the brothel?"

"Yeah, you can get an escort," Elizabeth said. "We have a three hour minimum, and most of our clients find that sufficient for a business dinner where they need a woman on their arm. I don't do much escorting, but I suppose I'd make an exception for you." She grinned up at him.

"I need an escort for a wedding," Kristoff said.

"A... wedding?"

Kristoff missed the catch in Elizabeth's voice. "Yeah, my friend's getting married. The wedding's going to be in New York—they're planning a Friday morning ceremony, with the lunch/reception a little later in the day. I've been thinking of flying in early Thursday, doing the wedding thing on Friday, and having the weekend for some tourist stuff before flying home Monday. It'd be nice to have someone with me."

Elizabeth was silent for a few minutes. "I'll have to see what Holly says," she said, "but I happen to be going to New York in the last week of October for my own reasons. You didn't say when the wedding was, but if it was the last weekend or the second last weekend, I could adjust my stay to account for your wedding."

"Why would you suggest that?"

"Simple mathematics," Elizabeth said. At his confused look, she sat up, leaning against the headboard. "Your request is not new," she said. "Every July, for the past two decades, Holly has sent one of her girls on vacation with a former client—and the last four times it was me. He paid an hourly fee for thirty-one days of twenty-four hours each. Holly gave him a discount on the hourly fee, since it was a month full-time, but the girls got a fair bit of that discount back in free airfare, accommodation, babysitting, and meals."

"Babysitting?" Kristoff said, looking up at her. "You don't look like you've got a kid."

Elizabeth's heart began to race, but she let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't, but others here do. If he chose you, your choices were: say no; bring one child under two years old with you, and allow the hotel to babysit; or a live-in babysitter was provided for all other cases."

Kristoff frowned. "Wait. If the kid was older than two, he paid for a live-in babysitter. But he wouldn't pay for both the babysitter _and_ the hotel's babysitting... so what happened if say, you had a kid older than two and a newborn who had to come with you?"

"You found a babysitter," Elizabeth said. "Or you backed out, and he chose another girl. That's how I got chosen four years ago. The guy was coming to pick Nellie up, and apparently Nellie had only just remembered that her daughter needed a babysitter, since the son was coming with her. I'd been working for a week then, and the only money I'd made was from a guy who tucked a fifty into my tits when I was introducing myself. Nellie thought she could lowball me into babysitting, and Felicia went right off at her—it was Felicia's last day, so what did she care if Holly threw her out? The guy arrived, Nellie had no babysitter, and Felicia pipes up, 'Elizabeth loves it up the ass'."

"...did you?"

"Oh, god, no," Elizabeth said, her heart slowing as Kristoff was distracted by her ass. "I hadn't even tried it then. The guy chose me to replace Nellie, even though he'd seen my reaction, and he's pretty much the standard by which I judge requests—he said right there at reception, 'Elizabeth, if you tell me no, the subject is dropped for the month, but I'd like to spend the month talking to you about eventually fucking your ass'. I almost said no, but my curiosity won out, so we talked about it. Unlike some of my _future_ clients, he was respectful of my feelings, even if he didn't agree with them, and his respect was why I agreed to try it, and I loved it so much, I spent the rest of the month getting fucked in my tight little ass."

"...now I want to fuck your ass, but I skipped that extra this time. Damnit."

Elizabeth grinned, rolling onto all fours. "Well, hopefully I've illustrated that financially, you're better off hiring me for the hours you want me, rather than full-time. Like I said, I can extend my required stay a bit either side, but if the wedding isn't at the right time, you'll have to pay for the full five days."

"It's the last weekend of October," Kristoff said, staring at her ass.

"Then grab the lube."

"...what?"

Elizabeth smirked at him. "Four days, not including the wedding," she said. "If my past experience is any indication, on at least two of those days, you'll pay for my ass. So—this once, mind—enjoy my ass for free."

* * *

Monday, October 9th, 2017.

There was one—and only one—place where Anna could get a dress for a wedding worthy of Elizabeth, and so she went to Fae's Dress Boutique first thing in the morning. She timed it well, arriving at the storefront just as Fae was unlocking.

"I need a complete outfit for a wedding, with fitting and alterations, and a fair bit of advice," Anna said.

Fae hung up the closed sign, going to fetch a few dresses that she thought Anna would like. "I can help with the outfit, but the advice is less likely. Still, what's the matter, dear?"

"My neighbour has seen Elizabeth five times in the last nine weeks," Anna said. "Now Elizabeth is committed to going to a wedding with him. My problem consists of the following smaller problems: my house needs to be demolished and rebuilt, and somehow my neighbour and I decided it was better for us to demolish both our houses and build something larger. I can't get out of going to the wedding myself, as Elsa's going to be the flower girl, and it's Elsa's former babysitter who's getting married, to my neighbour's ex, of all people."

"Your neighbour doesn't know, then?" Fae said, bringing back a selection of dresses.

"If he knows, he isn't telling me he knows," Anna said. "My instinctive guess is he really doesn't know, and that when he finds out, I'll know because he won't be able to hide it. He's like an open door."

"Isn't it an open book?"

"I like my version better," Anna said.

"Well, you look nothing like Elizabeth right now," Fae said, holding up a green dress. "Perhaps it's like with Supergirl—he just doesn't see what's under his nose. Elizabeth wears glasses, and is almost always naked. Anna's never naked, and doesn't wear glasses."

"I guess that makes sense," Anna said. "But how do I attend this wedding as two people?"

Fae looked Anna up and down. "I have the perfect dress, yes. Very well, you will follow Fae's directions exactly. A manicure and pedicure are a must, as are a reversible handbag, Elizabeth's glasses, and two pairs of shoes—one open-toe heels, one closed flats. No stockings, no makeup, other than nail polish, and even then, only clear. The dress will be complicated enough; better to keep everything else as simple as possible."

* * *

Friday, October 27th, 2017.

As neither Eugene nor Rapunzel were particularly religious, they had eschewed a church wedding, and elected to get married in the function room of a hotel. With the wedding scheduled for ten, Kristoff rose at eight, spent three-quarters of an hour in breaking his fast, showered for fifteen minutes, and then began to get dressed. He was in the middle of trying to tie his tie when there was a knock at the door. Scowling, Kristoff answered the door, seeing Elizabeth standing there in a green halterneck dress that exposed a decent amount of cleavage, and black flats. She also wore a most unbecoming scowl beneath her familiar glasses.

"You don't look very happy," both of them said.

Kristoff held up his tie.

"Say no more," Elizabeth said, taking the tie off him as she came inside. After studying the tie and his collar, she nodded. "I believe the Full Windsor knot is appropriate for weddings, and luckily, this tie is long enough for it. I'd tell you to pay attention, but I can't do it slow enough for you to learn anything—at least, not without screwing it up."

Despite her words, Kristoff tried to pay attention, but Elizabeth's hands were deft and quick, and he was none the wiser as to how she'd done it. Still, the damn thing was tied, and Kristoff took her hand.

"Thanks, Elizabeth. Can I solve your problem as easily?"

Elizabeth shook her head, her hair rippling as she did, and Kristoff's face fell.

"You've straightened your hair."

"Straight hair is far easier at weddings," Elizabeth said. "Did you really like the curls that much?" Kristoff nodded, and she chuckled. "Maybe I'll curl my hair for you tonight, then."

"If I can't solve your problem, would it help to vent to me?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm on my period, okay? So I'll be running to the bathroom more often than I'd like today."

"Would it be better to call it off?"

"You're sweet, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'll stay longer another day to make up for the absences." She took his arm. "Let's go get seats—perhaps near the back so I don't make as much of a disturbance in leaving?"

* * *

The seating had been set up with seven rows of chairs: sixteen chairs in the first row, fourteen in the second, and so on, until the seventh row with four chairs.

"Oh, that's pretty," Elizabeth said. "I wonder if that was intentional..."

"This looks like an attempt at a Fibonacci sequence—and it failed," Kristoff said.

"The chairs have been split down the middle," Elizabeth said, taking the non-aisle seat of the last row on the right, "and so the chairs look like a pair of wings."

Kristoff plopped into the remaining chair. "Huh, I guess it does look like a pair of wings. I bet that was Rapunzel's doing. She's amazing at art."

"Ugh. I'll be back."

* * *

In the bathroom, Anna locked herself into the disabled stall—even the knowledge from hotel staff that no one would be wanting it until long after the wedding didn't quell the uncomfortable feeling—and kicked off her flats. She laid several sheets of paper on the toilet seat before emptying her handbag, and reversed the bag before putting most of the contents back in, leaving out only a pair of open-toe heels, as well as a glasses case. The glasses went into the case, the heels went on her feet, and the flats went into the handbag, along with the case. With that sorted, she pulled off her dress.

With a few adjustments, just like Fae had shown her, the dress went from halterneck to strapless, and the hemline dropped a good four inches to now fall below her knees—and as French girls knew, if your dress/skirt was above the knees, you wore flats, while below the knee meant heels. The former hemline now looked like decorative rosemáling, and Anna scrambled back into the dress, pulling her hair up into a messy bun.

Stepping out of the stall, Anna checked herself over in the mirror, and satisfied, she hurried back to the function room.

* * *

Anna dropped into the seat in front of Kristoff. "Remind me why I agreed to let Elsa be the flower girl?"

"Neither of them have friends with young kids apart from you, and certainly not any family, so there really wasn't anyone else," Kristoff said. "And Elsa wanted to do it more than anything else she's ever wanted—or so she claimed."

Chairs were filling up, and Kristoff placed his tuxedo jacket on Elizabeth's chair so no one else would claim it. Checking his phone, he saw the wedding was to start soon, and he readied the camera: Anna had made it clear that he had to take as many photos of Elsa as possible, or Anna would be displeased.

When all the guests were seated, the music began, and Eugene Fitzherbert was the first to enter, two groomsmen behind him, walking abreast. When they'd taken their places with the celebrant, the music changed to the eleventh track of the Wreck-it-Ralph film, and this signalled Elsa's entrance.

Kristoff took pictures as Elsa walked up the aisle, scattering lily petals with a solemnity befitting the occasion, and so solemn was Elsa, that she didn't even wave at Anna like many other kids might have.

"See? You didn't have to worry," Kristoff said, continuing to take photos.

As Elsa got to the front, she tugged at Eugene's pants leg, and half mumbled to him, "Did I do it right?"

Unfortunately for Elsa, the music had changed to signal Rapunzel's entrance—and as with Eugene, two bridesmaids followed behind her—so Eugene never heard her, being distracted as he was by his bride. Elsa saw only one solution to this: tug harder.

Rapunzel had just reached the back of the chairs when a loud noise made everyone look to the front, where Eugene stood in resplendent dress—with a pants leg ripped almost at the hip, revealing boxers with suns on them, and the pant fabric puddling around his ankle. Beside him, Elsa's eyes were wide and brimming with tears.

Kristoff jumped up. "Oi, Eugene!"

"What is it, Kristoff?"

"You bought that suit brand new for the wedding, right?"

"I _thought_ I did."

"Did you go to Westergaard's Quality Tailoring?"

Eugene cracked up, and Anna and Rapunzel weren't far behind him.

* * *

Once everyone had sufficiently recovered—and Rapunzel had taken Elsa aside and dried her tears—the wedding went on, despite Eugene's lack of pants, and Kristoff suddenly became aware of Elizabeth sitting next to him.

"You missed something hilarious," Kristoff said.

"So I heard, although what I'm seeing up there is hilarious enough," Elizabeth said, smiling. "You just might be that little girl's personal hero, you know?"

Kristoff blushed, turning to watch the wedding—and frowned. Anna wasn't in front of him anymore, and he didn't see where else she might be.

* * *

Due to the lack of much of the religious trappings, the ceremony, hiccups and all, was over by eleven, and everyone was asked to move to the hotel grounds for wedding photography while the function room was transformed for the reception and lunch. During the shift to the grounds, Elizabeth excused herself, and by the time everyone was on the grounds, Anna caught up to Kristoff.

"Where were you? You missed most of the wedding."

"I saw it," Anna said. "I can't believe Eugene is going around sans pant leg like nothing's wrong, or that Rapunzel hasn't raised more of a fuss about it. But more, I can't believe that the hotel hasn't said something. Most hotels I've been in have dress standards."

"Most of us are not billionaires," Kristoff said, "and I imagine that Eugene has enough financial weight that they're not saying anything. Also, look at them: they don't care about their clothes; Eugene and Rapunzel are just delighted to be married."

"I wonder if I'll ever look that happy..."

Kristoff squeezed her hand. "Oh, and I'd assume that Eugene's at least as good a businessman as I am, if not better. Going over your scheduled time is too costly to be worth it, especially if there's another function coming in after you, so he was never going to hold the wedding up to go and resolve the problem. By continuing on, I figure he makes a case for having the day ruined, and so can use the photos and such to sue whoever sold him that suit."

"Have you ever done that?"

"I've been tempted," Kristoff said, "but never been able to do so in good conscience, as if I'd built something with shoddy materials just to prove a point, and someone got hurt..."

Anna nodded, waving to Elsa as photographs commenced.

"I'll have to remember to ask Rapunzel for some photos," Anna said. Her phone buzzed, and she excused herself to take the call.

* * *

Anna had been offered wine or other alcohol a dozen times or more, but kept refusing; the last thing she needed was to get drunk and make a slip-up that would tip Kristoff off. By her estimation, he was concerned about Anna's absences, but kept assuming that she was elsewhere, probably helping out with Elsa. The real problem was Elizabeth's absences, and she wasn't sure what to do about them. Making it up later would at least show some good faith, but didn't help her in the here and now.

Her head snapped up as a piercing wail filled the air, followed by shouts from the wedding table. Leaving her handbag on the chair, she dashed over.

"Get me your supervisor," Eugene said as she neared, his eyes fixed on a smug looking waitress.

"What's going on?" Anna said, as Elsa's wail became full-on sobbing. She glanced down, blinking. Elsa was covered in chocolate milk and macaroni and cheese.

"This bitch," Rapunzel said, "came up with Elsa's meal, _supposedly_ tripped, and you see the results. Sucks, but accidents happen, right? Except that she then smirked and said 'that'll teach you to ruin weddings, you little shit'. It's all on video, too."

Anna whirled on the waitress, socking her right in the nose, and the waitress flew back, falling on the floor.

"...assuming she needs one, I'm paying for her lawyer," Eugene said in an undertone.

"Only if I'm paying for half," Rapunzel said, also in an undertone.

* * *

The news of what had happened got through the room, and Kristoff could see that Anna was going to be busy dealing with Elsa for some time. He sighed, and pulled out his phone, ringing Elizabeth's number.

As he listened to the ringing, he heard a muffled ringing nearby, which seemed to stop when he hung up due to no one answering. He rang again, and the muffled ringing began once more. Kristoff looked around, and saw Anna's handbag. He quit the call, and rang again, and as before, her handbag ceased ringing before beginning to ring again. Frowning, he opened the handbag, the contents obscured by black flats. He set those on the chair, pulling out a glasses case.

A sick feeling came over Kristoff, and he opened the case to see the horn-rimmed glasses Elizabeth always wore. Below that were two phones, and one was flashing with 'Kristoff (Ass-Man)', to show he was calling. He ended the call, and the phone stopped flashing. He checked his call history, but it showed 'Elizabeth (3)', as expected.

It was then he noticed the handbag's inside was identical to the handbag Elizabeth carried, and he emptied out the bag to take a closer look, and in doing so, discovered it was reversible.

* * *

It took Anna longer than she would've liked to get Elsa cleaned up and into a semi-decent dress, but soon they were back at the wedding table, where a fresh meal had been delivered, and after assurances from Eugene and Rapunzel that the waitress had been dealt with appropriately, Anna went back to get her bag, intending to go change into Elizabeth.

Her handbag was on the floor, already reversed to Elizabeth mode, its contents scattered on her chair, and Elizabeth's glasses were on the table, next to two phones. One had a light flashing, as notifications had come in. She grabbed it, pulling up the notifications.

Three missed calls from Kristoff.

Her heart sunk, and she fell into Kristoff's abandoned chair, burying her face in her hands.


	2. In Which They Explain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Festival of Ēostre, PunkPoemProse!
> 
> Thanks to frenzy5150, who continues to serve as beta for this monstrosity, and idunscrewedup, who listened to a lot of "well now what?" issues.

Saturday, October 28th, 2017.

Recriminations were easy to come by in the early morning.

Anna lifted her head, searching out the clock, and flopped back against the pillow, stifling a groan. She'd put Elsa to bed hours ago, and having nothing else to do, followed soon thereafter. Elsa had fallen asleep with ridiculous ease, and Anna stared at the ceiling, listening to the even breathing coming from the next bed. She pushed the covers back, and as quietly as she knew how, pulled a dressing gown and slippers on, before gathering up toiletries, and exiting the room.

"A shower might help, and this way won't wake Elsa," Anna said, and with a resolute nod, she locked the door before slipping the key into her pocket. She made her way to one of the communal bathrooms that the hotel offered. Her toiletries went on the cubicle bench; her dressing gown and sleepwear getting hung on a hook.

_What are you going to do?_

"Great, we've reached the stage where stupid questions I can't answer repeatedly demand answers." Anna adjusted the shower lever to her liking, stepping under the spray, where she stood motionless. "If the repetitiousness means there is an answer, I'm too fucking stupid to suss it out, okay? No matter how I look at it, I've got to wait on him."

* * *

Kristoff punched the pillow a few times before he tried resting his head on it, and just like every time, it was still uncomfortable. Growling, he threw the pillow across the room. It occurred to him seconds later that the action hadn't resolved his feelings about Anna, or Elizabeth, or whoever the fuck she was, and moreover, had lost him the bed's sole pillow.

He lay there a while longer, but when he shifted, he saw the alarm clock. Its red calculator digits flicked to 12:42 AM, and Kristoff swung himself out of bed. He didn't have a kid sister to worry about, and so had opted for a room sans bathroom to save money. A shower might do nothing more than keep him awake, but it was better than lying in the dark. He grabbed a towel and his keys, heading to the communal bathrooms.

As Kristoff had expected, the bathroom was deserted when he got there, and he dropped onto a cubicle bench, drawing the curtain closed.

"What I want to do is go yell at her," he said. "She should've told me!"

Kristoff looked at the showering area, scowling. A shower had seemed a good idea, though it'd lost its appeal now he was faced with it. Going back to his room felt like admitting failure, however, and he entered the shower, yanking the lever with more force than required. Just as he was getting the water to a more practical temperature, he heard footsteps entering the room, and whoever it was went into the cubicle beside his.

"Great, we've reached the stage where stupid questions I can't answer repeatedly demand answers."

Kristoff steadied himself against the wall—what the hell was Anna doing here?—and tried to listen over the running water.

"If the repetitiousness means there is an answer, I'm too fucking stupid to suss it out, okay? No matter how I look at it, I've got to wait on him."

She wasn't even going to apologise!? Kristoff clenched his fists, rocking on the balls of his feet. Why, he ought to give her a piece of his mind!

* * *

Anna ran her hands through her hair, letting the water spray saturate it thoroughly. The warmth of the water was soothing to her tense muscles.

"You're not even going to apologise!?"

Stifling a scream, Anna whirled around to face Kristoff. "How long have you been here?"

"I was in the next cubicle over," Kristoff said. "The next move is yours, or don't I deserve an apology?"

"And there's the problem with listening to half of my thoughts," Anna said, leaning against one corner of the shower. "Say I apologise. What happens next, hmm?" A half-smile quirked her lips before it disappeared at Kristoff's silence. "And that's why I've got to wait on you. I thought we'd built a good friendship outside my work, and while losing that friendship is likely no more than I deserve, I couldn't sleep for worrying about the possibility." She sighed. "I _am_ sorry, Kristoff. I thought I had good reasons, but however good they were, I should've accounted for you in my reasoning. At the very least it would've been better to say I was otherwise engaged."

"I thought we were friends too, which is why I don't understand why you'd want to make me look like a fool!"

"You'll have to step me through that, because I don't follow how you're thinking."

Kristoff growled. "How about we start with how you must've known who I was, and so knew I didn't have any idea? You didn't tell me either, and then we have the fucking wedding itself. Maybe I was too stupid to see that Anna and Elizabeth were the same fucking person, however, that doesn't mean everyone else was! What a fucking idiot I must have looked to them... but you didn't think about that, did you!?"

Anna paled, shaking her head. "I really should've thought of that."

"And now, even though you've fucked up, you want to leave everything to me to sort out? What the hell kind of friend are you?"

"I won't claim to always be a good one," Anna said, "but in this instance, I thought I was being a good friend. If it were up to me, nothing would change. What I want only makes up half of this." She bit her lip, blinking back tears. "If you want nothing more to do with me, then please put me out of my misery as soon as you've figured it out. I'll need to find a new home for Elsa and myself."

Kristoff stared at her. "A new home?"

Anna swallowed hard. "I don't know of many people who live together when one of them doesn't want anything to do with the other, Kristoff." Her voice wobbled, and she looked at the floor. "Don't know what that means for our building a house together, but... I'll just have to deal, won't I?"

"I don't care if you have to deal! I shouldn't have to be the one fixing your mistake!"

"...are you even listening to me?"

"What's there to listen to? You fucked me over, and now you want me to make things right again!"

Anna stared at Kristoff. "You're really mad," she said, shaking her head.

"What was your first clue, whore!?"

Silence fell, and Kristoff stood there, regret and horror evident in his expression. Anna betrayed nothing, and as Kristoff began to stammer, she took one step closer, placing a finger on his lips.

"Oh, I'm a little whore indeed..."

Before Kristoff could do anything, she was on her knees, her lips sealed around his cock, her eyes wide open and locked on his. She sucked, her cheeks hollowing in and out, her tongue flicking over the stiffening shaft. Kristoff stared at her, breathing hard as Anna began to use her mouth in ways he hadn't even known she knew. She increased her sucking as she shoved herself forward, and his cock slid down her throat.

Anna kept the suction up as he came down her throat, stopping when he was spent. She licked him clean, standing up.

"You can't hurt me with that word, Kristoff. I _like_ being a whore. Now. Has the makeup sex cleared your brain such that you'll fucking _listen_ to me?"

Kristoff finally found his voice. "Depends—was that Elizabeth or Anna?"

Anna rolled her eyes. _He's still mad, but now I know what's eating at him most._

She turned the shower off, fetching his towel from the adjacent cubicle, and once they were wrapped in their towels, she sat on the bench, pointing beside her.

"I am the one who fucked up, and I should have chosen any one of a number of better options," Anna said, enunciating each word clearly. "It is only fair that you are angry with me, yes?"

Kristoff nodded.

"But what will you do with that anger, Kristoff?" Anna said, and silent tears began to slide down her cheeks. "We agreed we'd build a house together, for one thing. Have I destroyed that? Have I destroyed our friendship? I can't make those decisions for you, as much as I'd like to. Because you were the first best friend I'd had in years, and I don't want to lose that." She swiped at her cheeks, staring at her lap. "I can explain, I can apologise... but you've got to make the hard choices. Not I."

"I don't understand," Kristoff said at last. "Why go to all the trouble of switching around? Why couldn't you be upfront with me?"

"Standard safety rules," Anna said. "Telling you who I was was never going to happen. I've known who you were since you told me about Westergaard's. If we were together, then that would've been different—but having seen how many relationships didn't work because the girl was a sex worker, I wasn't ever interested in pursuing one. I wish now I'd just said I was otherwise engaged. Holly's going to be _pissed_."

"So why not tell me you were otherwise engaged?"

"Because you asked Elizabeth to the wedding, you didn't ask Anna." Anna allowed a slight smile at Kristoff's confused look. "When you asked Elizabeth first, I should've said no. I knew that, but I didn't think you'd go home and ask me to be your wedding date. You'd have asked me already. You asked Elizabeth because you wanted someone to fuck after the wedding. There were plenty of other girls who would've gone with you."

"They would've cost me more. I might've decided it wasn't worth it."

"True, but as far as I could see, you were willing to pay the full fees for Elizabeth, so why not any other girl?"

Kristoff conceded that with a nod.

"I only told you a smarter way to hire Elizabeth after I was sure you'd take her." Anna shrugged. "The amount of money I was getting didn't matter to me—only that I be the one to get it. That's the short version. If you want the longer version, we should probably head back to my room. I don't want to leave Elsa alone much longer."

Kristoff nodded, and they gathered their things, heading back. Once they were back in Anna's room, they dropped on top of the bed.

"Make yourself comfortable," Anna said, closing her eyes as she lost herself in memories of heartache and desperation. "I'm almost twenty-one and a half, although when my parents died, I wasn't even eighteen yet..."

* * *

Monday, March 10th, 2014.

Anna folded the letter up, placing it inside her parents' filing cabinet. It didn't tell her anything new, really: her parents were dead, she had guardianship of Elsa, and she and Elsa had inherited the house and contents, plus seven thousand in cash, which had been sent to her bank account, very sorry for your loss, please consider us for future legal needs.

She rifled through the filing cabinet, pulling out the whole shebang of bills, and grabbing her notebook, Anna started working out expenses. She wasn't sure what she expected from the exercise besides crushed hopes, but it wasn't something she could ignore either. After an hour's work, she sat back, staring at her notebook.

"My financial mess goes back to Elsa." Anna sighed, checking over her notes once more.

Her parents had gotten parental leave after Elsa's birth, but her mother's additional unpaid year off had hurt the finances, and then with both parents at work and Anna at school, it'd been necessary to enrol Elsa in a nursery school, and her parents had paid for the three years upfront, which was another factor in the paltry cash inheritance.

"I didn't get paid enough for babysitting Elsa all last summer," Anna said. "Elsa goes to kindergarten in 2016, so I can worry about school fees later. Which leaves the bigger problem: without my supplementing it, seven thousand will last until the end of June, maybe the end of July if I'm lucky. Whatever way I look at it, I need a job... but how do I get through the one or two months this summer? I'd have to get a babysitter for Elsa if I got a job, and I doubt my earnings would cover the full cost—so that's really kind of pointless, isn't it?"

The doorbell rang, and Anna tidied the papers into a stack before going to answer the door.

"Come in, Mrs Tremaine," Anna said. "Would you like tea?"

Mrs Tremaine accepted the offer, and very soon Anna brought in a teapot, pouring a cup for her guest.

"I'm not sure this is the best time, but if we leave it much longer, it'll be harder for you to graduate on schedule—if that is what you wish," Mrs Tremaine said.

Anna frowned, and nodded. "I'd like that, if it could be worked out. What are my options?"

"You can attempt to graduate on schedule, in which case I'd advise you to work from home." Mrs Tremaine sipped her tea, setting the cup down. "It's your choice, however, and if it's important to you to come to school, then of course you may... but I'd recommend laying the groundwork to allow you to have a summer graduation in that case."

Anna leaned back in her seat, staring at the ceiling. "Going back to school isn't going to work out, not with guardianship of Elsa. If laying that groundwork could happen just in case... I'll do my best to not need it, but I don't know how things with Elsa will pan out."

"Quite." Mrs Tremaine reached into her bag. "I'd suspected you'd want to work from home, so I brought your assignments and classwork over. Tuesdays and Fridays, someone will stop by at lunchtime to pick things up for marking. Today being Monday, tomorrow will be skipped."

Anna nodded, accepting the folder from Mrs Tremaine. A few more pleasantries were exchanged before Mrs Tremaine left, and once she was alone, Anna began to sort through the classwork.

* * *

One week passed, and then another, and by the end of the third week, Anna was certain of two things: graduating on schedule would happen, and the seven thousand dollars would be gone by or before the end of May. Her budget had covered almost everything, but she hadn't considered that she and Elsa would need new clothes, that appliances had the knack of choosing the worst possible times to break, or that Elsa would get an ear infection. Once the ear infection was dealt with, Anna went through the wardrobes, deciding that while she could make do with what she had, Elsa couldn't, and following the fridge's breaking down, she took Elsa shopping.

The shopping was an exercise in frustration, necessitating a bribe of salt and pepper chicken fingers, and once Elsa was in bed, Anna sat down with her laptop, browsing job listings on several sites. While most listings appeared outside of her qualifications, the remainder didn't instantly disqualify her. Disqualification was left to her, as she compared the offered wages to the costs of various child care options, and confirmed her thoughts from weeks ago: although it wouldn't be fun _or_ easy, minimum wage was enough to keep Elsa and herself clothed, fed, and housed—but not enough to do all that _and_ pay for child care.

Anna leaned back in her chair, loading a YouTube playlist, and as the beat of Fun's We Are Young (ft. Janelle Monáe) filled her headphones, she closed the other browser tabs one by one. It was the understated elegance of the banner that caught Anna's eye just as she closed one tab, and when it wasn't in the remaining tabs, Anna searched for 'Holly's'.

Anna loaded the website, finding the home page as understated as the banner.

"...how have I walked past Holly's all those times and never realised it was a brothel?"

* * *

Sunday, June 1st, 2014.

Anna stood outside the library, watching as Elsa played on the library park's see-saw. She pulled out her phone, making a call.

"You've called Holly's; how may I help you?"

"Holly asked me to come in for an interview..." Anna said, swallowing back tears, "but I can't get a babysitter, so I can't come in. I've been trying all week, and..."

"Um, excuse me, ma'am? Do you need a babysitter?"

Anna covered the phone, staring at a handsome man who looked as if he'd been sculpted by a committee of women. "...wait, what?"

The man set down a library bag, inside of which Anna could see a book—Blood of Dragons, by Robin Hobb—and took out his wallet, showing her his driver's license. Eugene Fitzherbert. "If you need a babysitter, ma'am, I'd be glad to help out. I've got some references, and I've got a godson, so I know how to handle kids under five."

"She's two and a half, and I can't pay you more than five bucks an hour."

"I could do with some pocket change."

Anna considered her options, decided she didn't have any realistic ones, and uncovered her phone. "I have a random babysitter from the library. I'll be there as soon as I've checked their references. How long should the interview take?"

"An interview shouldn't take more than an hour. I'll let Holly know."

* * *

"I'm sure I'm going to regret this," Anna said, looking in her purse, "but here's your ten dollars for two hours, and twenty dollars for McDonald's. No going anywhere else."

Eugene took the money, as well as Elsa's hand. "Understood," he said. "We'll see you in two hours, then."

Anna watched them go inside, and took a deep breath.

"The references checked out," she said, "and that was your last thirty dollars. You need this job. Get going."

The walk went a long way to settling her nerves, and she didn't even hesitate as she knocked at the door. Pleasantries were exchanged with the woman at the door, and within minutes, Anna was face to face with Holly.

"Has anyone ever told you—"

"That I look like an older Martha Jones?" Holly said.

"I guess they have."

Holly waved her to a seat. "There's an application to fill out," she said, "but that's just paperwork if I think you'll be a good fit here. Is that shade of red your natural hair colour?" At Anna's nod, Holly smiled. "Clients have wanted a redhead on staff for a while, so you're almost guaranteed a place here. Start by telling me a little about yourself—some of our regulars like specific personalities, and I like to make good matches."

Anna took a deep breath, and began talking. Holly took sporadic notes, sometimes prompting with a question, but for the most part, she leaned back in her chair, observing Anna.

"You've mentioned a few boyfriends," Holly said. "Did you have sex with them? And what did you think of it, if you did?"

Anna bit her lip. "I did, and not just once or twice, but I didn't like it. Not at first, not until I learned better what I liked, and how to get it from them. Why does it matter?"

Holly sighed, her eyes rolling. "Sex is a learning experience for both parties. It's my understanding that men want virgins, or failing that, girls who haven't had much experience. But at the same time, it's also been my experience that men don't want to teach women how to have sex; they expect the woman to already know how to do everything."

"Sounds like my boyfriends, yeah," Anna said.

"We meet that expectation here," Holly said, "and fair enough; they're paying for it. Which isn't to say you won't learn on the job, however, when I've taken on girls with insufficient experience, they've struggled to build up regular clients." She shrugged, smiling. "I think you'll be a good fit here, and I'm happy to offer you a job. We can do the application now, if you like, and as soon as I've seen a negative STD test, I'll put you on the roster. You will need more appropriate clothing, and there are a couple of places around that know what you'll need; I'll give you a list before you leave."

Anna paled, her eyes widening. "How... how much is that likely to set me back?"

"Well, the testing is a flat fifteen hundred dollars, and you should expect to spend at least five hundred for clothing. It could be as much as one thousand dollars."

Anna stared at Holly, and burst into tears, shoulders heaving.

Holly blinked, and held out the tissues.

"Take the time you need to calm down," Holly said. "You're not the first to burst into tears here, and you won't be the last. When you feel calm enough, tell me what's wrong. You also wouldn't be the first to decide that you don't want to do this. At least you did it before you signed the contract."

Anna let out a hiccup, swiping at her eyes. "I haven't changed my mind; I've known about Holly's for a couple of months. I needed that time to work up the nerve to come here, you know?"

"If I had a penny for every girl who said that to me, I'd... have a lot of pennies, and no store in the area would like me."

Anna blew her nose, managing a shaky smile. "I'd like to work here, but I can't afford to."

Holly sat up. "Why don't you start at the beginning, sweetie?"

Anna stared at her hands, folding them in her lap. "My parents died in February, leaving me guardianship of my little sister, and I've spent the last three or so months trying to make the little money I was left last. It went faster than I expected, so I've been looking for jobs where I'd make enough to support us both, including a babysitter during work hours. This was what I found, and I almost cancelled it because I couldn't find a babysitter, and when I did... well, even though their references checked out, the last actual money I had went on McDonalds."

"Do you have food in the house?"

"I have three weeks' worth. I turn eighteen in twenty days, and I planned on working my birthday..."

"But I can't let you work without that test," Holly said, "and without the appropriate attire, no one's going to give you a second look. And those issues aside, it's possible for you to come on a shift and get no clients." She sighed, fingers tapping on the desk. "Are you really going to do this job?"

Anna nodded, and Holly looked at her before opening the desk drawer. She counted out fifteen one hundred dollar bills.

"I'll make you a pre-paid appointment for the STD test," Holly said, "and I'll set up an account with a thousand dollars at Fae's Dress Boutique for you. I believe five hundred should be more than enough for some babysitting for your shifts, leaving you a thousand for more food in three weeks."

"...wait, what?"

"It's coming out of your earnings, Elizabeth, and I'm only doing it because I want you on staff. I'm tired of losing clients because I can't give them a redhead."

"Elizabeth?"

"You can't use your real name here, and I like to name the newcomers. And Elizabeth sounds like a good redheaded name."

* * *

Saturday, October 28th, 2017.

Anna let out a yawn as she finished the story, glancing at the alarm clock.

"Oh, that's good; we can still get a bit of sleep, and I'm almost finished the story. Holly bailed me out that day, and yes, it was self-serving in the extreme. But I've never had to part with the last of my money since, and for that peace of mind, I'll forgive Holly for that. Assuming I'm careful, and don't go overboard in spending, Elsa and I will be okay—my earnings went into various investments and things. I'm only working now so I can save money for Elsa's pre-college schooling, as well as further education for myself, be that college or trades work."

"So it's about money?" Kristoff said.

Anna looked over to Elsa's bed, listening to the deep, even breathing coming from the bed. "Of course it's about money," she said.

Kristoff was silent, and Anna swallowed hard.

"They wanted me to give her up," she said, her voice cracking. "My parents hadn't even been dead a day, and people came to talk to me about putting Elsa into foster care for eventual adoption. They tried to use the inheritance as leverage, saying that I'd need it more than Elsa, and I'd not have to share it if I signed all rights over." Her breath hitched, and Anna began to sob, her shoulders shaking as she pushed her face into a pillow to muffle the sound. "My little sister was all I had left in the world, and they wanted me to give her up. Maybe she would've had a better life if I'd done that, but I wouldn't have seen her again, and I was already never going to see mamma and pappa again, and..."

Whatever she said next was lost between her tears and the pillow, and Kristoff stared at the ceiling. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, or rub her back, and yet he did neither. He lay there, listening to Anna's sobbing come to a halt, before she rolled back over.

"I try not to think about how close I was to losing her," she said, and her voice was dead. "If Holly had rejected me, Elsa would've gone into foster care the next day. So yes, Kristoff, it was always about money, because money meant what was left of my family got to stay together, and if anyone has a problem with that, they can go fuck themselves—in the ear, with a rusty spork, _sideways_."

Kristoff didn't know what to say to that, and when Anna spoke again, there was tiredness in it that Kristoff hadn't heard before, not even when Anna had pulled all-nighters.

"That's the longer version you asked for, Kristoff. While you can sleep in if you choose, I've got a little sister who'll want breakfast, and to go sightseeing scant hours from now, so if you could go back to your room, I'd appreciate it. When I get home, I'll let Holly know she needs to refund you."

Kristoff sat up. "Why would you need to do that?"

"Now he speaks," Anna said, and the tiredness receded, to be replaced with something else Kristoff couldn't identify. "Not telling her isn't an option. She'll ask how it went, and I'll have to tell her it blew up in my face. I'm looking at losing the job at the minimum either way, but if I lie, and Holly finds out I lied, she'll blacklist me with other local brothels, meaning I'd have to move if I wanted to stay in the industry."

"Just for lying?"

"It might be different elsewhere, but yes—lying's is the big offense with Holly. I think I've a fair chance of not being blacklisted, as I'll come forward of my own accord. Why do you care?"

Kristoff tried to be nonchalant, and almost succeeded. "If we finished out the weekend like I paid for, you wouldn't have to say anything that got you fired, right? 'How was it?' 'He was a fine client, I had fun watching my friends get married, and how were things here?' She can't be displeased with that."

"I am tempted," Anna said, "but it's not a good idea to mix business with personal relationships. You need to think, Kristoff. Do you still want to be friends with me? Do you want to be friends, but quit building a house together? Would it be best if our relationship was strictly whore and client? I haven't really heard much from you on that front, and until you can tell me what you want, I'm not sure you should see Anna or Elizabeth."

"You never answered my question from earlier. Who was it?"

"By Skadi's winter, it wasn't anyone!" Anna said. "I wanted you to listen, and I thought that would waste less time—and I was right. Why's it matter?"

There was a silence, and in the end, Kristoff shrugged. "I'm too confused to know what I want, though I think you're not being entirely fair—you'll just be pissed if I choose Elizabeth, so how can I choose her if that's what I want?"

"Please do choose Elizabeth if that's what you want," Anna said. "I've only been pointing out throughout the whole conversation that I want the money for my future."

"You'd choose money over friendship?"

Anna looked over at Elsa, who slept undisturbed, and Kristoff thought she might not answer. But answer she did, tiredness and regret filling her quiet words.

"I've done worse."

Kristoff hauled himself off the bed, and Anna saw a dark shadow slip out the door.

* * *

"Anna. Psst!"

When no reaction was forthcoming, Elsa scrambled up on the bed, plopping herself on Anna's lumpy form.

"Anna!"

Anna made some unintelligible noise, but remained still.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Elsa said, shaking Anna.

"Elsa," Anna said, her voice thick with tiredness, "go back to sleep."

Elsa sighed, and flopped on Anna. "I just cannot. The sky is awake, so I am awake. So... we have to nom."

Anna slithered an arm out, and brushed Elsa off the bed. "Go nom by yourself."

Elsa dropped with a surprising amount of grace, looking grumpy before she brightened, scrambling back up on the bed. She leaned over Anna, and with one hand, pulled an eyelid open. Anna stared back at her.

"Do you wanna nom a pancake?"

Anna opened her eyes, breaking into a grin.

* * *

By fortunate chance, the hotel's breakfast options not only included pancakes, but made them to order. Two strips of bacon, a fried egg and a stack of three pancakes along with a glass of plain milk meant Elsa was too busy trying to fit it all in to bother Anna, and she was left to think over the altercation from that morning.

"Eat slowly, Elsa," Anna said.

She picked at her own breakfast, suppressing a sigh. In some sense she felt better for having everything out in the open, but on the whole she felt like shit. While she could wave most of her shitty feeling away as uncertainty regarding Kristoff's choices, Kristoff's question lingered in her mind, refusing to leave.

_"Depends—was that Anna or Elizabeth?"_

Anna debated headdesking—maybe that'd shake the memory loose.

"Elsa?"

"I slowed down, Anna!"

"No, it's not that," Anna said. "Do you like Kristoff?"

Elsa nodded. "He is big enough to give me piggybacks."

"That's it? No other reasons?"

Anna held back a smile as Elsa gave her a look— _that is everything **important** , Anna_—and she reached over, placing a hand over Elsa's. "Remember I told you about mamma and pappa getting together? Well—"

"I think you and Kristoff should hold hands."

"Wait, what?"

Elsa sighed. It was the long suffering sigh of children who thought adults were being particularly obtuse.

"I like Kristoff. You like Kristoff."

Anna nodded. "We just confirmed—"

"Kristoff likes you," Elsa said, as if Anna hadn't said anything. "So, you should hold hands. Like mamma and pappa did."

Anna stared at Elsa, who beamed as she went back to her breakfast.

Kristoff's question turned over once again in Anna's head, and her knife and fork slipped from nerveless fingers as the pieces all fitted together. The clattering on the floor didn't even register as Anna saw the truth.

Kristoff had asked the question because he had come to view Anna as someone who could be a potential girlfriend—so the answer _had_ mattered a fair bit to him. He'd wanted to know if Anna could reciprocate that view. And clever idiot that she was, Anna had ignored the question, going on to explain she didn't want relationships because, as a general rule, they failed to work, plus she was in it for the money to better her family's future. None of which would've been an issue, except for the other fact that had just smacked her right in the face.

Elsa was young enough that Anna's policy of not inviting anyone in if Elsa disliked them still applied, no matter how good of a person they were. Except Kristoff wasn't just anyone, and if Elsa liked him, Anna no longer had an out. Somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love with the clumpy way he walked, the grumpy way he talked, and the pear-shaped, square-shaped weirdness of his feet... not to mention his unmanly blondness.

The urge to headdesk intensified, and Anna gave in, wincing. "That would've been a much more helpful revelation even twenty four hours ago, self. FML."

"Anna, I want to invite Kristoff to go sightseeing."

"I'm not sure we can, sweetheart." Anna sat up, making more of an effort to finish her breakfast. "He wasn't here when we got here, so he's either sleeping in or he's gone off early. We'd have to wait for him, which means delaying sightseeing. And you want to get to sightseeing, don't you?"

"Or I'm right behind you."

* * *

Kristoff woke up, feeling good—and then the memories of the previous night flooded back. He groaned, fumbling for his phone. Once he'd unlocked it, he found that Anna—or Elizabeth, whoever the hell—hadn't texted since his departure earlier that morning. Kristoff stared at the screen until it went black. She'd been very clear: she was grabbing all the sleep she could before spending the day with Elsa; ergo she'd had no time for texting.

So why did he feel so rotten about that?

Oh, right—he'd called her a whore.

A traitorous part of his mind considered breaking off the friendship as a way of avoiding having to apologise, and Kristoff rejected it as an unworthy move. Understanding Anna's motivations had helped a little, though he was no closer to deciding what he wanted to do; however, that was separate from the name calling, and he owed her an apology regardless.

Kristoff hauled himself out of bed, thinking. He could try her room, followed by the hotel's dining room, and assuming he caught her, see about having five minutes of her time.

"But she'll ask if I've decided anything," he said, looking through his suitcase for fresh clothes. "All I've got on that front is the sunk cost fallacy—we've put enough into the new house that we might as well continue, and I think that's what she wants anyway." Kristoff pulled on socks and jeans, along with a long sleeved shirt, and Anna's words from last night popped into his head. "What she wants... hey, that's a good way to look at it! She doesn't want a relationship, and she's fine if I see Elizabeth—it means more money for her."

Kristoff picked his phone up, and after glancing at the time, decided he needed to head out if he wanted to catch Anna before she went out for the day. His wallet and room key were on the table where he'd left them, but on a quick once over, he couldn't see his shoes.

"Where the hell are my shoes?" Kristoff said, kicking his suitcase. The lid fell down as he turned away, scowling. "Oh, come on, I packed them! Damnit, why can't anything go right for once? I don't fucking _want_ to fuck Elizabeth, and I don't want any other girl, but the girl I want doesn't want me, so... what am I supposed to do? Fuck Elizabeth anyway? Find some new girl? Wait around on the off chance like some sodding idiot?"

There was a pounding on the wall, and a feminine voice shouted, "Jesus, if it'll get you to shut the fuck up, you can come in here, and I'll show you how to forget those girls you're whining about!"

Kristoff beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Anna wasn't in her room, and Kristoff headed to the hotel's dining area, loading a plate with toast, bacon and eggs. Carrying his tray, he located Anna's distinctive hair, and headed over.

"We'd have to wait for him, which means delaying sightseeing. And you want to get to sightseeing, don't you?"

Elsa's eyes lit up as she saw Kristoff, and Kristoff grinned at her.

"Or I'm right behind you."

"Of course you are," Anna said, and she stabbed a fork into her pancakes with more force than necessary. "Well, go ahead, Elsa."

"Anna is taking me sightseeing," Elsa said. "Will you come with us?"

"I don't have any plans," Kristoff said, eyeing Anna's fork. "If Anna's okay with my coming along, then I'll join you."

"Please, Anna?"

"Why not? After all, the more the merrier, right?"

* * *

Merriment, it was soon discovered, was in short supply.

The walk to the closest museum wasn't long, by any means, but it was long enough that the silence after Anna and Kristoff abandoned their attempt at stilted conversation was awkward.

They joined the line, and Kristoff glanced up at the prices. "If one of us gets the tickets, the other could get lunch, and it'd be about even, I think."

"You get the tickets, then," Anna said. "I want to use the bathroom once we're inside."

Once inside, Anna headed straight for the bathrooms, and Kristoff looked down at Elsa. "I guess we'll be waiting for her."

"May I have a piggyback?" Elsa said, holding her arms out.

Kristoff grinned, and knelt down so Elsa could clamber on. Once she was secured, he stood up, and she giggled.

"Kristoff, why are you and Anna fighting?" Elsa said.

"I can't speak for Anna, but—" Kristoff said.

"What does that mean?"

"Uh... sometimes you have nightmares, right?" Kristoff said, feeling Elsa's vigorous nodding. "You won't talk about them unless I'm not there, and so all Anna ever tells me is that she got you calmed down and back to sleep. You don't want to tell me what you dreamed—that's between you and Anna."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, that's how it works on a larger scale, or so I think," Kristoff said. "I believe people get to choose what they want to share with others, as well as when they want to share it. I believe that includes speaking for one's self. If Anna wants you to know why she's fighting with me, she'll tell you. Does that make sense?"

"You cannot tell me because that means Anna cannot choose." Elsa paused. "But why does that matter?"

Kristoff suppressed a chuckle. "I may not be explaining simply enough for you to get why. We'll have to wait until we get back to the hotel."

"But why are you fighting with Anna? Don't you like her anymore?"

"Oh, Elsa..." Kristoff sighed. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to say anything he shouldn't either. "I still like Anna. People can hurt each other though, and it's normal to be mad about it."

"She hurt you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she did."

"Anna does not like us?"

"What? Elsa, sweetie, she's your sister. She's always going to love you."

"But... I drawed her a picture. And I spent all day on it, and I used my favourite pencils. It was the best picture I ever drawed for her, and she just stuck it on the fridge."

"But most of your drawings go on the fridge. Wasn't she doing what she was supposed to?"

"No!"

Kristoff wondered where Elsa had picked up the "I'm so over dealing with stupid" tone, because he was sure Anna—for all that she too often lost patience with Elsa—had never used such a tone with Elsa.

"I gave it to her so she could put it on the top where it belonged, and she just hid it with all the bad drawings. I could have done that; I am tall enough to reach! And vegetables are yucky, and Brussel sprouts are worse." Elsa shuddered.

Kristoff recollected reading something on the internet to the effect of "of course kids believe this is the worst thing ever to happen to them. Their life experience is short enough that often it _is_ ", and debated over what to say to Elsa.

"But... Anna apologises," Elsa said. "And she told me she never liked Brussel sprouts either, so I do not have to eat them anymore. And if I eat my vegetables I get a cookie after, or sometimes ice cream, or a brownie. She promised to pay more attention to my drawings so she knows where the drawing is supposed to go. She tries hard because she loves me, and because she loves me, she lets me be me. But I loves her, so I tries to be a better me."

"Okay..."

"Anna tries hard for you," Elsa said, as if that said everything—and perhaps for her, it did.

Kristoff wasn't quite sure what to make of Elsa's statements, and Anna was coming back anyway, so he put it aside to worry about later. There was a museum to look through, and possibly some New York style shopping—though he thought there wouldn't be much they couldn't get back home.

* * *

Monday, October 30th, 2017.

Plans that had seemed simple when they'd first been made no longer seemed quite so simple, and Anna was grateful for the Dungeons and Dragons rule book she'd bought after the museum trip—it went some way to alleviating the awkwardness with Kristoff sitting beside her. Once she was assured Elsa wouldn't be waking up, she closed the book, keeping her eyes on the cover.

"May I assume that you're burning a hole through my head because you've made some decisions?"

"I think we should keep building a house together," Kristoff said. "Elsa still needs a bigger yard to play in. But you might have changed your mind."

"I like the area and some of the people too much to change my mind," Anna said. "I'd move to a new place if I had to, but it wasn't top of my to-do list anytime soon. What does that mean for us?"

"I don't understand."

Anna kept her eyes on her book. "I'll be blunt, then. Neither of us wishes to cancel our house sharing plans. I don't believe friendship is a prerequisite to sharing a house, though if we cannot be civil, I'll find somewhere else. Elsa deserves better than to grow up in a hostile environment."

"But we're friends."

"Are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've forgotten Saturday so easily?" Anna said. "We talked, and I'd like to think that I explained myself well enough. I certainly apologised for my part in the fiasco. Yet you have neither accepted nor rejected my apologies, nor have you apologised. I don't need your apologies, though if you can't accept mine, I'd say the friendship has gone kaput—which is about par for the course when the secret gets out. I'd hoped that our friendship would be the one that forever defies the odds, but apparently I shouldn't hold my breath."

"You've been busy with Elsa, so I chickened out," Kristoff said. "I'm sorry I chickened out, and I'm more sorry that I called you a whore."

"Thank you." Anna slid the book back into her carry-on, looking at Kristoff.

"I've done some thinking, and while I'm not happy you did all the switching, you've never outright lied to me," Kristoff said. "I accept your apology."

"I never needed to lie to you," Anna said. "You never asked me to tell you how I fucked all the Disney face characters, females included. You were happy to just be with me, and it's always easier to stay consistent when you use as much of the truth as possible."

"I know you're biased... but can you give me advice on being friends?"

Anna looked up at Kristoff, looking into earnest eyes. "If you want our friendship to work... then you don't know what I do. You can continue to see Elizabeth, if you choose, but that's strictly professional. If there's nothing else, I'd like to get some sleep myself."

The stewardess came along to offer drinks, and Anna took the distraction as a chance to close her eyes. She was almost on the verge of sleep when Kristoff's low voice woke her up, and she knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep.

"And if I've fallen in love with you?"

* * *

Omake: Do You Wanna Nom A Pancake?

Getting Elsa ready had left Anna in need of a shower herself, and so Elsa was left to wait while Anna got ready. For an almost six year old who was hungry and bored, the waiting seemed interminable, and after what felt like forever to Elsa—but was less than half a minute—she approached the bathroom door.

"Anna?"

She knocked on the door in a specific pattern: knock, knock, knockity knock.

Do you wanna nom a pancake?   
Come on, let's go and eat.   
I never have them anymore,   
What's breakfast for?   
It's like they're made of wheat!   
We used to have them always,   
And now we don't—   
I wish you would tell me why!   
Do you wanna nom a pancake?   
...it doesn't have to be a pancake.

"I'm showering, Elsa!"

Okay, bye...

After another period of 'forever', Elsa was back at the door.

Do you wanna nom a pancake?   
Or play D&D in our room?   
I think breakfast is rather overdue,   
I've started talking to   
The absent bride and groom!   
(I did good, Eugene?)   
I get a little hungry,   
All these empty shelves,   
Just exploring the mini-fridge...   
beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep...

The fridge soon lost interest for Elsa; as much as she wanted some of the candy in there, she knew better than to touch it, and so she went back to the door.

Anna?   
Please, I know you're in there.   
I am asking how long you'll be.   
You say, "wait for me", and I'm trying to,   
I wanna scarf my food, just come on out,   
I only have one tummy,   
It's just her and me,   
How will I fill her up?   
Do you wanna nom a pancake?


	3. In Which They D&D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May the Fourth be with you, PunkPoemProse!
> 
> Thanks to frenzy5150, who beta'ed this monstrosity, and idunscrewedup, who listened to a lot of "well now what?" issues.

Tuesday, October 31st, 2017.

"The problem with midnight cravings is knowing what you're going to crave beforehand, so it can be in the house for when you crave it," Kristoff said, closing the fridge door. He grabbed the pen attached to the magnetised shopping list and added 'cheese' to it, before heading to the stairs. "I've worked in people's places doing repairs, I should be more comfortable in Eugene's house than I am. I wonder what Elsa's secret is..."

What Kristoff didn't know was that Eugene had taken Elsa to his house before, so for Elsa it was like returning to a friend's house. One that had a much better tv, to boot.

There was a noise at the front door, and Kristoff halted, one hand going to his phone. It was too early for Anna to be back, unless the worst had happened—and then the door opened, and Anna stumbled through, holding a bottle of wine.

She looked up at Kristoff, recognition appearing in her eyes.

"Maybe 'lizbeth isn't dead after all," she slurred. "Wanna fuck my whore ass?"

Her eyes were glassy, and she stumbled along, into the lounge room.

Kristoff fetched a bucket, a pitcher of water and a glass from the kitchen, joining Anna in the lounge room soon after. He set the bucket by the couch, and gave silent thanks as Anna accepted the glass of water without argument. The water seemed to break through her intoxication, for Anna let out a defeated groan, slumping into the couch, her eyes closing.

"Things didn't go well?" Kristoff said.

"What was your first clue?" Kristoff was too startled at having his words from Saturday thrown back at him to reply, and Anna opened one eye. "I wouldn't have come home drunk if everything was peachy keen, you know! I 'fessed up to my fuck-up, Holly refunded your card, fired me, and then topped it all off by blacklisting me. I didn't want to come home, so I went to an internet cafe to look up jobs online. But it's the same problem as ever, isn't it? The non-sex work I'm qualified to do doesn't pay enough, and I'll have to go interstate to get a job at a brothel, which isn't going to work."

"Non-sex work doesn't pay enough, but what doesn't it cover?"

Anna gulped down the remaining water, holding her glass out for a refill.

"I don't want to talk about it," Anna said. "My life's a fucking mess."

"Look, if you're worried about child care, most of my work can be done from home." Kristoff refilled Anna's glass. "Being the boss has some perks—the people under me do the labour, and I don't have to see them face to face every day. If I'm home, then when Elsa's off school, I can look after her. The plan might not be perfect, but I think it'd get us to the summer holidays. She should be old enough to partake in one of those summer camps by then, too—and those things are generally cheaper than a babysitter would be for the same length of time."

"That doesn't even solve the biggest problem, though!" Anna rocketed up, slamming her glass down on the coffee table. Water sloshed over the rim, though both she and Kristoff ignored it. "Fine, you'll babysit Elsa for free, which means I can get a shitty job. Unless I break into my savings, I haven't the finances to get the qualifications that'd get me a job that pays more than what it takes to cover food, clothing and housing. Of course, if that's all I'm earning, I also need my savings to pay for Elsa's schooling!" She burst into tears, shoulders heaving. "I only needed two more years at Holly's, and I fucked it all up!"

Kristoff sat beside her, rubbing her back. "Okay, that's super dispiriting," he said. "You're solving nothing by getting drunk, though."

"What makes you think I can solve anything sober!?" Anna mumbled. "My decision-making skills are demonstrably beyond shitty. I was honest, I came in unless I was sick, I took people that no one else wanted—holy shit, you wouldn't believe the clients I took when no one else would. There was one guy who didn't want sex. He wanted a model he could decorate with food like she was a serving platter. He was awesome; he paid my cleaning time. I was one of her best girls, no one ever complained about me, Holly made hundreds of thousands of dollars off my slutty little body, I abided by her rules... and for all that, I get tossed the first time I do anything wrong. Clearly, becoming a whore wasn't one of my top ten decisions, and I probably won't do any better with the next job. Maybe I shouldn't even bother, I'll probably just get kicked out of that job, too. Though they won't blacklist me to keep the customer base, like Holly did. Fuck her."

"Maybe the whole thing is hopeless," Kristoff said. "You seem to think so right now, at least—but from what I've heard, you're drunk enough that you've missed something important."

"What's that then?"

"You said you need the savings to pay for Elsa's schooling. Where will the money for food, clothing and housing come from, if you have no job, and can't touch the savings?"

Anna turned a sickly shade of green, and Kristoff got the bucket to her just in time. He looked away, pouring her a glass of water, and gave her the glass, taking back the bucket when she appeared to be finished.

On his return, Anna was curled up on the couch. Her face was pale, but overall she looked much better.

"If you don't think you can make it upstairs, I'll get you some blankets," Kristoff said. "I think the best thing you can do now is get some sleep, and start looking for jobs come the morning."

"Blankets would be nice. Maybe I'll wake up and this'll all have been a dream..."

"As long as you keep dreaming about me, I suppose that's okay."

"Why wouldn't I keep dreaming about you? You have a perfectly sized cock for my ass..."

Kristoff blinked.

"...oh, you did not just say that to me and then pass out," he said, staring at Anna, who was dead to the world.

* * *

The smell of eggs and toast pulled Anna from a doze, and she opened her eyes to see Kristoff holding a tray. He set it on the coffee table as she sat up, and she grabbed the plate, ignoring the mess as she stuffed her face.

"It's nine o'clock, I've taken Elsa to school, and you don't have a headache, do you?"

Anna shook her head, draining the accompanying glass of orange juice in one long swallow. "I don't. It looks like I had enough to get drunk, but not enough for a hangover. I figure that's for the best—I need to spend the day looking at smaller places that still hire people in person, as it were. Though I don't have much of a résumé... or anything I'd want to put on it."

"You've got two good skills that belong on a résumé," Kristoff said. "You're a people person, and you've got sales experience."

"Either you're talking out your ass," Anna said, looking up at him, "or I _am_ hungover, because I can't make sense of what you're saying. I suppose it could be both, so enlighten me: exactly how does sex for money translates to sales experience, not to mention being a people person?"

Kristoff sat down. "Maybe you don't have to be a people person to do sex work, but _you_ are."

"I'll concede that."

"As for the sales experience, Holly's has the girls introduce themselves to each new client—and you were fairly successful at being picked, even though you'd had thirty seconds or less of interaction."

"...that's either really insightful or complete bullshit."

"Couldn't it be really insightful bullshit?"

"If it's insightful, it's not bullshit. And it may help me get that shitty job I so desperately need right now," Anna said. "On that note, I'd better get a shower before heading out. I'll be home for trick or treating—how does pizza for dinner sound?"

"Elsa will be happy," Kristoff said, grinning.

"It's Elsa's first trick or treating," Anna said, bouncing up. "I doubt she'll settle down enough to even eat pizza, but I'd never get a proper meal in her anyway. I'll see you tonight, then!"

* * *

Friday, November 3rd, 2017.

It was the end of the lunch rush as Anna trudged into the cafe, dropping into the closest booth. She picked the menu from its holder, glancing through it.

"What would you like to order, miss?"

"The will to keep on with job hunting," Anna said. "Failing that, I'll take two ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches on multigrain, please. Both toasted."

"We're not hiring," the waitress said, scribbling down the order, "but my uncle runs a used car lot, and needs a salesperson. I haven't yet heard of him permanently filling the position—he hires on a provisional basis, and the hires haven't been lasting. If you've got sales experience, you might be interested?"

"Uh... why aren't they lasting?"

The waitress cocked her head. "The one saleswoman who wasn't put off by customers being creeps spent her work day talking about the places she'd spend her paycheck. I'm not sure if men share a hive mind or not, because he's fired six salesmen who thought it was the height of hilarity to ask me—his sixteen year old niece, mind—if I wanted to drive their shift stick. And no, they didn't mean their cars."

"My sympathies," Anna said. "Well, I'm not put off by creeps, and at this point I'm not sure I can afford to be picky. If he's hiring, it'll be the first place since I started looking. I'm not sure I know much about cars, though."

"Not knowing anything about cars hasn't seemed to stop my uncle making bank," the waitress said, smirking. "Okay. I'll be back with your meal and the address, then."

* * *

Anna crammed the last of her sandwich in her mouth, standing outside the used car lot. She remembered passing it on the Tuesday, and it looked just as clean and organised as it had then, if a little emptier. She took that as a good sign; the last thing she wanted was to take a job on a ship no one would admit was sinking. She headed for the office, rapping on the door.

"Come in!"

Anna stepped in, seeing a man in his early thirties using a treadmill. He ended his session, grabbing a towel.

"You here for a car, lass?"

"I stopped off for lunch at a cafe, where your niece was waitressing," Anna said. "She said you might be in need of a saleswoman. I'm Anna."

"That I am," he said, wiping the sweat off his face. "I'm Robert Roberts, but forgive me if I don't shake your hand, lass. I take it you've had sales experience?"

"You're forgiven," Anna said, smiling. "I've had three years of sales experience."

"No kidding?" Robert said. "That's more than the last ten applicants combined. Where were you working?"

Anna stared at him, her mouth opening and closing.

"Shall I assume that you and your employer didn't part on good terms, and you weren't planning on using them as a reference?"

That sounded a lot better than "I worked at the local brothel" to Anna, and she nodded.

"It wasn't illegal, what you were doing?"

"I can't afford to be involved in illegal things; I have a little sister to raise."

Robert nodded. "Sensible of you, lass. I suppose it won't hurt to try you out; it's not like I've got any other applicants at the moment." He looked at his phone, nodding. "You can start on Monday, and we'll review three weeks from tomorrow. If you don't like it, you can part ways, no hard feelings and all that."

It seemed a little short to Anna, but she didn't think she was in a position to argue, so she nodded. "What are the hours?"

"Monday to Friday, eight-thirty to five, including a half hour unpaid lunch break. Saturdays, it's nine to one." He put the phone back in his pocket. "You'll make twelve dollars an hour, time and a half on Saturdays. Fifteen percent commission on whatever sales you make. Do you have any questions, Anna?"

"I might need time off, if something comes up with my sister. I don't know I'll get much warning either."

"If you don't work, you don't get paid, so take all the time off you want."

"...wait, what?"

Robert laughed. "Just don't lie about why you want time off, and don't take time off for frivolous reasons, and we'll be good, lass. You've probably found out kids are hard to raise. This past summer, my son had a persistent earache, followed by a bout of tonsillitis, and the cherry on top of that sick sundae was a broken arm when he was finally released from being cooped up. A miserable summer for everyone involved."

His phone rang, and he read the text message, typing a reply.

"I've just been informed that some fuckwit parent let their son go to school with chickenpox this whole week, so the entire class has probably been taken out."

"Elsa's never had chickenpox..."

"Then I hope for your sake she isn't in Miss Broch's class at—"

Anna's phone shrilled with a text message from Kristoff.

"Southview Academy," Anna said.

_Apparently Elsa has almost certainly been infected with chickenpox. I'm heading out to get her._

Anna looked up at Robert. "How would you feel about me taking the next week off?"

Robert picked up a pad, scribbling on it. "Lass, I think you'll wish you were at work by Monday. I'll put my money where my mouth is: if you don't come into work until Monday week, I'll pay you for next week as though you'd come in. Here you go." He handed her the paper. "Little tip for you; if you dress like the girls do in those secretarial porn videos, you'll be that much more successful here."

"Um..."

"Showing off a bit will guarantee you more sales, which is good for both of us."

Anna blinked. "Wait, I'm just dressing slutty for the customers?"

"It worked for the previous salesgirls—at least until they got fed up with customers being creeps. It's not mandatory, just something you might want to think about."

"Your niece warned me that I'd encounter creeps on the job, and I can handle that." Anna shook her head. "I thought you were propositioning me."

Robert's laughter was deeper, echoing in the office. "Lass," he said, "I'm not far off from being old enough to be your father, I'm married, _and_ I'm gay. The only interest I have in your dressing slutty is that it's proven to sell more cars, and that means both you and me make more money. Leave me your number, take my card, and I'll see you Monday week, if not before. We can deal with the contract stuff then; I imagine you'd like to go see your sister."

"Good luck with your son," Anna said, pocketing the card and paper.

"And good luck to you too."

* * *

"Elsa's in bed, and maybe she'll fall asleep soon," Anna said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "I found some woollen gloves, though who knows if they'll stay on with all that damned itching. I did the baking soda bath, and I've told her not to scratch..."

"Then you've done all you can do for her," Kristoff said. "Any luck on the job front?"

"I'll be selling used cars Monday week," Anna said, sliding off the arm, onto the couch proper. "My boss thinks I'll want to go to work as a way of avoiding Elsa's chicken pox, so if I don't, he'll pay me for next week as if I'd worked it. He may be crazy, but I won't turn down free money."

"I wish I had a boss like that."

Anna gave Kristoff the side-eye. "Aren't you your own boss?"

"Yes, but I'm not a boss like that."

Anna chuckled, and leaned against Kristoff, her hand slipping into his. "This is nice," she said, closing her eyes.

"Anna?"

"Mmm?"

"Next weekend, if Elsa's recovered—or at least improved enough to be left with a babysitter—would you go out to dinner with me?"

"Just dinner?"

"Well, I suppose we could take in a movie, though I'm at a loss to think of anything we wouldn't take Elsa to. I believe she wants to see Paddington 2."

"Oh, I _know_ she wants to see it. It's all she would talk about in the bath, when she wasn't whining about being itchy. They watched Paddington today with Miss Broch, and I'd be annoyed with Miss Broch if I didn't want to go see it myself."

"We'll go to the movies twice, then," Kristoff said. "Once after dinner, and then some other time with Elsa?"

What did he want? Hell, what did _she_ want for that matter? "All right, that sounds like fun," Anna replied. "Shall we plan for Saturday next week and see what happens?"

* * *

Saturday, November 11th, 2017.

"I called Robert today to confirm everything was still good for my starting Monday," Ana said. "His son's in Elsa's class, so he also got chicken pox. It was a worse case than what Elsa had, it sounds like—and after the past week with Elsa, I'm not so sure that he was exaggerating. I thought Elsa could whine, and turns out she's an amateur compared to that kid."

"Better not tell him your sister was a veritable angel, then," Kristoff said, grinning, grabbing the last square of cheesecake.

Anna stuck her tongue out, but grinned back; she'd eaten more than half of the squares in the first ten minutes. "I won't be; I want my free check."

"Are you looking forward to the job?"

Anna bit her lip, shrugging. "It'll be nice to have something I can put on a résumé... but I really don't know anything about cars. I figure that there's got to be a file on the cars that'll give me most of the details, and if anyone asks stupid questions, I have my Samsung, so I'll search the internet." Anna set her cutlery on the plate, pushing the plate to one side. Across the table, Kristoff did the same, finishing his water.

"I kind of want to get some to take home," Kristoff said, "but I don't fancy carrying it around the rest of the night either. Speaking of, we never planned past dinner, did we?"

"I recall vague mentions of movies," Anna said, catching the eye of the waiter, "though I recall no further investigation on that front. Truth be told, I'm not much in the mood for a movie right now. What if we went for a walk? We could see what's happening around town."

The waiter came over, handing over the folder, and Kristoff looked at the bill, placing several notes inside it to cover the meal and tip, before handing it back. He held his hand out to Anna, and they departed the restaurant, zipping up their jackets.

"Let's just pick a direction?" Anna said.

"Fine with me." He offered her his arm. She took his hand instead. He smiled, and laced their fingers together.

They walked in companionable silence, and before long Kristoff realised he was heading in the direction of the game store Sven worked at. He remembered the Dungeons and Dragons book Anna had picked up in New York, and kept walking. If Anna had more than a passing interest in it, she might appreciate knowing where to find game sessions. Sven had offered multiple times to teach Kristoff how to play, and Kristoff figured he might have reason to now.

The game store was open, though most people inside appeared to be playing a card game, and Anna stopped, looking at the window displays.

"Kristoff! Accepted my invitation to come learn how to play D&D?"

Anna glanced up, seeing Kristoff and Sven trade fist bumps.

"Who's the lady?"

"My name's Anna, and even if he's not, I'd be interested in learning to play. I picked up the Player's Handbook recently, and I have a question about the ability scores."

"I'm Sven, and before you ask it, get inside here where it's warmer."

Anna followed Kristoff inside, pulling off her jacket. "I have to roll four six-sided dice six times. Each time, I discard the lowest number, and sum the total that remains, and that total becomes one of my ability scores, however I wish to assign them."

"Correct," Sven said.

"What happens should I roll a total of eighteen six times in a row?"

"That's twenty-one over twelve hundred and ninety-six for one time, so raise that to the sixth power for six times..." Sven looked at Anna. "Pardon my French, but you go buy a fucking lottery ticket, that's what happens. As for the game... uh... well, you roll what you roll." He led them over to a table. "Why do you ask? Do you think you roll six eighteens in a row, right here, right now?"

"I asked because I was curious." Anna crossed her arms. "I suppose I could throw six eighteens in a row, but the likelihood is pretty close to zero, isn't it?"

"With a fair dice, yes," Sven said, looking at his phone. "The Magic event is wrapping up soon, and once I've handed out prizes, I'll teach you the basics of Dungeons and Dragons."

* * *

Saturday, December 9th, 2017.

The Saturday night date had turned into a Saturday lunch date, sometimes with movie afterwards, as Anna had taken to Dungeons and Dragons with a relentless enthusiasm, and Saturday nights and Sundays had been given over to campaigns run by Sven. Having always turned Sven's offers to teach him down, Kristoff had been surprised to find that he enjoyed the game nearly as much as Anna did, though perhaps that was just the people he played with.

Elsa had been curious that first Sunday, and it was Kristoff who'd thought that by letting Elsa bring her teddy bear Deakin into the game as a player, it might keep her interest. Sven had added it'd be necessary to simplify the rules for her, and overall it'd been a huge success—at least post first session, where a couple of bad dice rolls had resulted in Deakin being kidnapped due to losing all his hit points. The meltdown that had followed had been epic, and once Anna had managed to calm Elsa down...

"Sweetie, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong, and I can't understand you when you're crying this hard. You're holding Deakin so tightly he can't get away, so who's going to take him?"

"But he said Deakin was kidnapped!" Elsa said, half wailing, clutching Deakin to her. "And I can't sleep without him! She can't have him, I need him!"

"You've got him," Anna said, stroking Elsa's hair. "It's only his character who's been kidnapped. She's not interested in kidnapping him for real. She was just after his game character."

"Not kidnapped for real? Promise?"

"Promise," Sven said. "Tell you what, kiddo: I bet you and Deakin would come up with an _awesome_ rescue plan for his character, and if you can get it to me by next Friday, we'll implement the plan and rescue Deakin in game."

"And then maybe you can draw a picture of Deakin's adventure?" Anna added.

Elsa sniffled, considering Sven's offer, and let herself be led away to wash her face.

"You seem quiet," Anna said, breaking Kristoff's thoughts. "I've offered you some of my garlic bread three times now."

"I was thinking about how much I enjoy D&D. Didn't think I would, you know?" Kristoff said. "And no thanks on the garlic bread. I'm leaving room for the movie popcorn."

Anna nodded, and popped the last piece into her mouth. "We paid when we ordered, and I'm ready to go watch Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle if you are. But... speaking of D&D, I've been meaning to ask you. Do you make furniture at all?"

"I can, yes—it's one of the reasons I wanted a basement in the new place; it'd be a place to work on furniture," Kristoff said. "Why, is there something you want?"

"I've been thinking I'd really enjoy having a custom made awesome gaming table for Dungeons and Dragons, now that money's no longer so tight."

"It might be cheaper to buy something already made, even if we have to assemble it," Kristoff said. "Although... your pout tells me you dislike that idea?"

"I've been looking at pictures of gaming tables, and the ones I really like are custom built, and just look more awesome than your standard mass produced table..."

An idea occurred to Kristoff, and he filed it away for later, standing up. "You should show me some tables later so I can get a sense for what you want. I assume you've bookmarked some favourites?"

"I have; I'll send you an email when we're home."

* * *

Once they were past the employee confirming tickets, Anna halted in her tracks. Ahead of them a sizeable crowd was waiting for a cinema to open, just large enough that getting past to their cinema would be a pain. Many were dressed as Star Wars characters, including two sitting on a bench, dressed as Luke Skywalker and Rey.

"Something wrong?" Kristoff said.

"We're not getting past that crowd," Anna said in a low voice. "But the two sitting on the bench? That's my July client with, I presume, his granddaughter. I'm not used to seeing clients outside of Holly's. It's... unsettling."

The doors finally opened, and the crowd surged into the cinema. Skywalker and Rey waited for the crowd to disappear before getting up, and Skywalker hadn't taken more than a few steps when he crumpled to the ground.

Anna bolted over, leaving Kristoff to pull out his phone.

Anna pressed her ear to Skywalker's chest, launching into cardiopulmonary resuscitation as Kristoff was dialling emergency services.

Rey crumpled to the ground herself, and Kristoff swore, running over—but she'd only fainted, and Kristoff went back to the call. Having impressed on the operator they needed an ambulance, like an hour ago, Kristoff headed to find a manager.

By fortunate chance, the paramedics were there less than six minutes after Skywalker's collapse, the entire time of which Anna spent on CPR—but it was of no use; Skywalker had suffered a massive aortic aneurysm, and had been dead before Anna reached him.

* * *

Tuesday, December 12th, 2017.

A phone rang as Anna was scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate for Elsa, and Anna almost dropped the plate on the floor. The ringing continued, and she recognised it as her ringtone, so she put the plate in front of Elsa, picking the phone up.

"Hello?"

"This is Belle Miroir. I'd like to speak with Anna Dellarene."

Anna couldn't recall ever meeting anyone called Belle. "Why are you calling me during breakfast, Miss Miroir?"

"I apologise for the early nature of my call, Miss Dellarene." There was a pause before Belle continued. "As I said, my name is Belle Miroir, and I'm a lawyer at Zabini and Davis. It's fallen to me to see a client's will executed, and to that end, I've organised a meeting of the named beneficiaries so the will can be read before I begin probate. Are you able to attend a meeting at eleven am?"

"I believe so, yes."

"And you have legal guardianship of the minor, Elsa Dellarene?"

"I do."

"Then you can speak for her at the meeting, as I doubt you want to bring her along."

"Very well, I'll see you at eleven am."

* * *

When Anna arrived at Zabini and Davis just before eleven, a secretary showed her to a conference room. Belle Miroir was already there, files arranged on the table in neat piles.

"You'd be Anna Dellarene?" Belle said.

"I am she."

Belle waved her to a seat, and a few minutes later they were joined by a man and woman not that much older than Anna.

"I was grieved to hear of your father's death, William, Catherine," Belle said. "I hope you're doing as well as can be expected?"

"I suppose," William said, dropping into a seat. "If we could make this quick, that'd be great. We've got a lot left to organise for the funeral."

Catherine sat beside her brother, saying nothing, her eyes red and swollen.

Belle nodded, picking up a folder, glancing inside. "I'll cut to the heart of the matter, then: Thomas Lawson's will names his son and daughter as his major beneficiaries, with the estate split fifty-fifty between them. Various charities will receive some portion of half a million dollars, and the will also mentions three minor beneficiaries: his granddaughter Sally, Miss Dellarene, and Miss Dellarene's sister, all of whom have had trust funds set up for them." Belle closed the folder, noting that Anna's face was blank.

"And what has Miss Dellarene done that she deserves anything!?" Catherine said.

Belle looked at Anna. "With your permission, Miss Dellarene?"

Anna shrugged; the name Thomas Lawson meant nothing to her. "Um, sure?"

"As is customary, after your mother died, your father changed his will to reflect the new normal," Belle said, her tone professional. "There's hardly any difference between that will and this one, when one accounts for you no longer being children. All that has changed is the addition of the trust fund beneficiaries—and Miss Dellarene is the third intended recipient of her trust."

"But why would Father deed one trust fund to three separate people?" William said. "Father never did anything senseless, and that's what this is!"

Belle pinched the bridge of her nose. "There isn't any good way to say this. Your father took every July off for a private vacation, having procured an escort to accompany him, and I believe the trust fund was at first intended as a bribe or lure into marriage—but that first woman moved on with her life, and so he found the second woman..."

The blood had drained from Anna's face as Belle spoke, her breathing short and irregular.

"That was him last Saturday!?" Anna said.

"Excuse me?" Belle said.

"Wait... you were the girl administering CPR?" Catherine said. She really took note of Anna now, frowning. "You look like Mother..."

William stood up abruptly. "Come on, Catherine. We'll be contesting the will to remove Miss Dellarene and her sister."

Belle nodded. "As you wish, Mr Lawson, Miss Lawson, though I'll inform you that Thomas included no-contest clauses in the will. It's my professional opinion that in your attempt to deny Miss Dellarene and her sister less than a million dollars left to them for educational purposes, you'll be giving various charities eight million dollars in addition to the half a million already set aside for them."

Catherine shook her head. "I won't be joining my brother in contesting the will. You do this alone, William."

"But she's a whore!"

"You don't remember how sad Daddy was," Catherine said, a catch in her voice. "You were too young. He didn't retreat into grief like some do. He was still Daddy—sad, and lonely, of course, but he was Daddy. And while time makes grief less, I never again knew him _not_ sad or lonely... except when he'd call us in July. How long were you with him, Miss Dellarene?"

"The last four Julys," Anna said, her breathing a little steadier. "Elizabeth, if that name means anything to you."

Catherine nodded, her eyes brimming with tears, a flash of pain crossing her face. "I think my father really liked you. He mentioned an Elizabeth a lot, at least during the last two vacations. And you tried to save his life..."

"I couldn't not," Anna said. "I wish someone would've been in a position to save my parents..."

Catherine swallowed, nodding. "Miss Miroir, I repeat that I will not be contesting the will. I'll be in touch with you later to discuss Sally's trust fund." She turned to her brother. "If you have an ounce of sense, William, you'll let Miss Miroir submit the will as is for probate and take your four million. After all, you didn't seem to have a problem with sex workers when you went and lost your virginity to one!"

William spluttered, his face turning red. "I... you... fine! I withdraw my intent of contesting!"

He stormed out, and Catherine rolled her eyes, picking up her handbag. "Thank you for your time, Miss Miroir, Miss Dellarene."

She left, and Belle turned to look at Anna.

"You weren't aware?"

"I used a pseudonym, why shouldn't he have?" Anna said.

"Quite," Belle said. "Obviously full details will wait for probate to conclude, but I can tell you that in about twelve years, Elsa should have about four hundred thousand for college expenses. What she doesn't spend on college, she'll get unrestricted access to once she graduates. There aren't any such restrictions on your trust fund, and should total about four hundred and fifty thousand."

Anna nodded. "Do you know _why_?"

"No, I don't," Belle said. "Does it matter? In the end, he did something good for you and Elsa, and that's the important thing, isn't it?"

"I... I don't know," Anna said, and she rose from her seat. "Thank you, Miss Miroir."

* * *

When Kristoff brought Elsa home, the house was quiet, and he frowned upon realising he hadn't seen Anna—or heard from her, even—since she'd left for some meeting. He set Elsa up with a small snack, heading up to her bedroom, knocking on the door.

"Anna?"

The door opened over a minute later, and Kristoff stared into eyes devoid of light and life.

"What's wrong!?"

"I failed to save his life," Anna said. "I tried, but I failed. I thought I was coping with that, but after today, I don't even know if I can cope with it, because today I was at his will reading. He set up a trust fund for Elsa's college education... but he also set up a trust fund for a previous July escort. Except that he changed it to benefit a second escort, and then a second time to benefit me." She ran a hand through her hair, swallowing hard, and Kristoff saw her hair was damp with sweat. "I was blacklisted, so the next escort would've become the beneficiary. I... I don't deserve it, Kristoff. I was just doing my job, and I was compensated for it. Why would... I..."

Anna slumped against Kristoff, who caught her before she could fall too far, and he carried her to the bed, frowning as he saw the mess it'd become. He set her down anyway, and went to look for fresh bedsheets.

It involved a short transfer to his bed, but after some hard work, Kristoff had Anna in her own bed, freshly made. Leaving the room, he bumped into Elsa, who held Deakin in one hand.

"Is Ah-Ah okay?"

"I... I don't know," Kristoff said. "I think she needs some sleep."

* * *

Wednesday, December 13th, 2017.

Anna wasn't any better the next day, or so Kristoff judged by her refusal to get out of bed, even to shower. He tried talking to her, but she didn't respond.

It wasn't grief, or at least it wasn't _just_ grief. He remembered her story about how her parents died, and how she powered through for Elsa’s sake. Not knowing what else to do, Kristoff somehow convinced a doctor to make a home visit.

Chione Apfel asked several questions of Kristoff before heading up to see Anna, and when she came down afterwards, she looked solemn.

"At present, I think her physical state isn't something I'm qualified to deal with," Chione said. She wrote something on a piece of paper, handing it to Kristoff. "That's a referral to a psychiatrist I trust; she should be able to help Anna, though results won't be instant. What you can do to help is make sure she eats and drinks—she says she hasn't eaten since breakfast yesterday, and claims she's not hungry. But she needs to eat, or it'll end with her having to go to hospital."

* * *

The psychiatrist was a woman in her late thirties, Tiana Chase. It seemed that she had dealt with like cases before, for she didn't even blink upon learning Anna wouldn't leave her bed except to use the bathroom—at random intervals, to boot.

"Are you the husband?" Dr. Chase asked.

"Boyfriend," Kristoff replied. _I hope._ She informed Kristoff that she was limited in what she could share with non-family members, but relented when Kristoff, holding a clinging Elsa, explained they were all the family Anna had left in the world. Dr. Chase said she would make home visits to Anna on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, and Kristoff soon learned the distinctive sound of her car engine. Although Dr. Apfel had warned Kristoff against expecting instant results, he was still stunned that Elsa's birthday came and went with no acknowledgement from Anna.

Without Anna, Elsa wasn't much in the mood for celebrating her birthday, and Kristoff couldn't blame her, so they shelved Elsa's birthday, and Christmas, until Anna was better. Kristoff tried not to think about what might happen if Anna _didn't_ get better.

* * *

Saturday, January 6th, 2018.

Kristoff looked up as Tiana descended the stairs—with Anna beside her.

"Elsa's in bed," he said.

"I know," Anna said. She was quieter than normal, but there was life amongst the shadows in her eyes. She sat on the couch, looking at her lap. "I looked in on her."

"We'll discuss next week how our appointments will change," Tiana said. "For now, have a decent meal, and talk to Kristoff about those plans for Elsa's birthday you mentioned to me." She squeezed Anna's hand, letting herself out of the house.

Kristoff made her a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese—it'd been what Elsa had for dinner, and he wasn't sure Anna would do well with something heavier. She ate with slightly more enthusiasm than she'd showed in the previous three weeks, and once she was done, she pushed the plates away, staring at nothing in particular.

"I missed her birthday, and Christmas..." There was the barest flicker of emotion in her voice; she might as well have been commenting on the wallpaper.

"I tried to explain you were sick, and that she should celebrate her birthday, but Elsa insisted on waiting for you," Kristoff said. "We can celebrate her birthday tomorrow, if that's what you want."

"I do."

Kristoff went to the kitchen, bringing Anna back a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

"Christmas will have to wait a week. I ended up cooking the turkey and other stuff; didn't know what else to do with it."

Anna managed a faint smile. "You couldn't have frozen it?"

"I did contemplate that, but the freezer was at maximum capacity already. A certain someone really likes her dumplings."

Anna took the hot chocolate from Kristoff, wrapping her hands around the mug. She sipped from it, a silence growing in the room. As the silence grew awkward, Kristoff busied himself with taking the used plates to the sink.

"Do you ever wish you could do things differently?" Anna said, her voice catching.

"I guess... sometimes I wish that, yeah," Kristoff said.

"He was lonely," Anna said quietly. "And he filled that loneliness with one month a year where he could be a husband again. Because what does a husband do if not take his wife on vacation to her preferred destination, taking care of all expenses incurred, and buying her lavish presents? He was showing us escorts that he would be a good husband... and now the conversation about marriage during the second year makes sense. Perhaps it was only because I looked like his wife, so his daughter said, but he wanted to marry me, just like he'd wanted to marry the other two girls who were with him before me."

A tear spilled down her cheek, though she made no move to wipe it off. "Except... I knew what he wanted, didn't I? Not consciously, of course, but I still knew. I told him I wasn't planning on marriage any time soon. There wasn't anyone in my life I could see myself marrying, after all." She began to sob, her shoulders shaking. "It was money I needed, always the money... but if I could change it, I wouldn't go the next two years, because I wasn't going to marry him, and that's what the vacations were _about_. But I went, because if he was going to spend the money anyway, why not on me? I made him waste his money, I contributed to his loneliness... how the fuck do I even deserve the trust fund?"

Kristoff stared into the darkened hallway, unsure what to say, or do. It was the most Anna had said in over three weeks, and from what he could tell, this seemed to be the root of her prevailing depression.

"I don't have any good words for you," he said at last, after Anna's sobs had subsided, a thought occurring to him. "Though... didn't you tell me that sex workers who freely choose the profession want to be left alone concerning it?"

"I did, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"You're not accepting that he had the same freedom of choice," Kristoff said. "Fine, you wanted him to take you, but it seems to me that he could've come in and told Holly 'this year, I want a different girl', and he didn't. I'm not saying your wife theory is wrong, but it seems weird to me that he'd keep taking you on vacations when you'd ruled out marrying him, if he was after an escort who'd marry him."

Anna blinked, looking up at Kristoff. "After the first year, he was adamant about taking me, and only me. I'm not sure I believe them even now, because it seems so unlike Holly, but before the second vacation, rumours were flying around. Rumours saying Holly had tried to convince Thomas to take any other girl but me, and he wouldn't listen to her. No one else was as pretty as me, no one else had the right kind of boobs, no one else had such a wonderful shade of red hair... at least to him, I was a ten out of ten on everything he wanted."

"You _were_ his wife."

The words came out unprompted, and Anna gave Kristoff an incredulous look.

"Huh? What are you saying...?"

"You said his daughter told you that you looked like her mother—his wife," Kristoff said, breathing rapidly as he began to see it all laid out in his mind.

"I think Catherine was pretty startled, once she looked at me..."

"If I'd asked you to dye your hair blonde and pretend to be Taylor Swift, would you have?"

"Um... I guess?" Anna paused. "Wait, you don't really want to fuck Taylor Swift, do you? And why are we talking about fucking Taylor Swift!me, anyway?"

"It's not about if I want to fuck Taylor Swift, it's that I could ask you to enact that fantasy for me. Because that's exactly what he couldn't or wouldn't ask you to do," Kristoff said. "No matter how willing you might've been to pretend to be some other girl to help with an unattainable fantasy, he wouldn't ask you to pretend to be his dead wife, because you might've said no. But you looked like her, and he didn't have to say anything to you to pretend he was once again with his wife."

Anna stared up at him, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"He wasn't looking to marry you... that's not why you had the conversation about marriage. It was a conversation he'd had once with his wife, but of course you didn't know that. It broke the illusion to hear things his wife never said, so he never brought it up again, to help safeguard the fantasy."

Kristoff knelt beside the couch, taking Anna's hands, locking eyes with her.

"You're not the monster you think you are. You may have told yourself you only did it for the money, but you knew what those July trips meant to him. You let him have something of his wife back," Kristoff said, "and to him, that was worth leaving you the trust fund."

Anna stared at him, and without quite knowing how it'd happened, Kristoff found himself sprawled on his back, Anna draped over him, her sobbing intensifying.

* * *

Friday, February 23rd, 2018.

In the days following, Anna resumed a semblance of normalcy. Her job was waiting for her, there were Dungeons and Dragons campaigns to complete, and as always, there was Elsa to look after. And, to Kristoff's utter delight, there were still lunch dates. And dinner dates. To Kristoff's mind, Anna was quieter than she had been, unless she was spending time with Elsa, and after speaking to Tiana, he knew that only time would help Anna resolve the issues that lingered. They grew closer, though it was slow and stilted. Yet somehow it felt more honest that way.

They didn't speak of Thomas, or the trust funds, or of Holly. Or Elizabeth. Anna folded all her experiences, tucked them away, and slowly closed the door on that part of her life. It was something she needed to do on her own, though Kristoff was there with her, sometimes holding her hand, sometimes cradling her close as cried, sometimes even sharing gentle kisses. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew if she wanted to get there the past needed to stay in the past.

As days turned to weeks, Tiana was proved correct, for Kristoff came down to the kitchen one morning to make Elsa's breakfast, and found Anna already up, making pancakes.

"Hey, you," Anna said, smiling. "You want pancakes?"

"I won't say no," Kristoff smiled back, walking up to kiss her cheek. Elsa was working on her colouring book on the kitchen table, ignoring them.

Kristoff glanced at his phone, grinning as he read a text message. "Um, I understand if you can't, but do you think you could go into work late? There's something I want to show you—it's a surprise."

"I suppose so... I haven't taken any time off for over a month. Making up for lost time and all." Anna's grin was rueful, but she smiled when he kissed her nose. "I don't have to take the whole day off, do I?"

"I think you'd be back to work by twelve, if not before."

"Then I shall await my surprise, good sir."

* * *

Once they'd dropped Elsa at school, Kristoff took out a sleep mask.

"I would like to keep you from working out what the surprise is," he said, "and after some of Sven's stories, I'm hoping a sleep mask is less likely to get me pulled over than a blindfold."

Anna slipped it on, a smile tugging at her lips, and sat back to enjoy the ride. She must have drifted off, for it seemed like only seconds later that Kristoff was helping her out of the car, and leading her into a building.

"All right," Kristoff said a couple of minutes later. "You can take the sleep mask off."

"You couldn't do it for me?" Anna said.

"I could've, but I'm trying to surprise you. Work with me, huh?"

Anna pulled it off, her eyes adjusting to the sudden light. An empty, pristine house stretched out before her. Anna's face crinkled with confusion.

"Wait, isn't this our new house?" she said, and as she looked around, she saw Kristoff kneeling before her, a ring box in his hand.

"Anna Elizabeth, you've become my best friend. Will you marry me?"

"...wait, what?"

"Is something wrong?"

"This isn't a hot tub. I always thought if I was ever proposed to, I'd be in a hot tub—or at least somewhere equally as ridiculous like in the movies."

"I'd be too afraid of losing the ring in the hot tub," Kristoff said, shifting position.

"I never thought about that..."

"So, uh... will you marry me? Even though we're not in a hot tub?"

Anna bit her lip, grinning. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you." She flung herself into Kristoff, holding on for dear life.

* * *

Friday, June 1st, 2018.

"You called Eugene and I back from our honeymoon to attend your wedding, mostly because you and Kristoff don't have family, or many friends besides us," Rapunzel said. She wore a sundress of pale lavender, tightly fitted to the torso, flaring out at the waist. "And we had to come, because I'm the matron of honour, and Eugene is the best man. Sven would've been the best man, but he decided to get the necessary qualifications to officiate the wedding instead."

"Sounds about right, although I believe you're forgetting the part where we offered to wait for you to finish the honeymoon, and you said 'screw that, the sooner you get married, the sooner I have an excuse to buy the latest in Parisian fashion'," Anna said, smoothing out her white dress with pale green trim.

"But I don't want it to be _my_ fault that I didn't get enough sleep thanks to flying back."

"I'm getting married. Why does it have to be _my_ fault?"

Anna and Rapunzel dissolved into laughter, and Rapunzel hugged Anna tight. "With all seriousness, I _am_ glad to be here. I'm curious though; you said the wedding was going to be in this room, and it doesn't look like you've done any decorating. And you haven't removed that giant box either."

"Well, you can definitely blame Kristoff for that; he's the one who organised this part."

"It's a flimsy covering," Eugene said, coming in with a cherry wood chair. He was followed by Sven, who also carried an identical chair. "Kristoff says you can take the covering off, Anna, and also could we could hurry it _up_? He wants to see his bride for some reason."

As Anna removed the cover, Eugene and Sven brought in another four chairs, and the chairs were arranged around the revealed rectangular table. The legs were cherry wood to match the chairs, and the top was hard maple.

"HE BUILT ME MY GAMING TABLE!?"

"I helped!" Elsa piped up from where she sat in the corner with Deakin. "I tallied all the swear jar money!"

"Did you? How much was it?"

Elsa scrunched up her face. "Um... Kristoff used it to buy me the LEGO Millennium Falcon?"

Anna opened her mouth.

"It's your wedding day," Sven said. "Let it go."

Anna took a deep breath, nodding as she releasing. "Of course. Elsa, perhaps you'll do me a favour, and send me photos of the assembly?"

Elsa nodded, bouncing. "Sven said he'd help!"

Anna glanced at Sven, who held up both hands. "I swear I won't take over the building."

"I'm still confused as to why we're in a room with a gaming table," Rapunzel said. "...you are still having a wedding, right?"

"Oh, that's easy," Sven said. "We're combining the wedding with a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, at the end of which they'll be officially married."

Rapunzel glanced around the room, as if hoping someone would confirm this was a joke, but no such confirmation was forthcoming.

"I flew to Paris to buy my dress," Rapunzel said. Her eyes were wide. "I came home from the best honeymoon of my life... for a glorified wedding D&D campaign. All that stress and effort, and you mean to say I got dressed up for _this_?"

"I'd point out it was the only honeymoon of her life, but by default it makes it the worst honeymoon of her life, and I prefer to hear that I did good," Eugene said.

"I got dressed up... for _this_?" Rapunzel said, letting Anna plonk her in a chair.

* * *

By the end of the campaign, Rapunzel was able to form more than one oft repeated sentence, though it was too late to salvage Punzie. Sven had worked it into Punzie's background that Punzie had once received a great shock, resulting in her being unable to say anything other than "I got dressed up for _this_?", with Flynn Rider as the only one able to interpret the context and meaning of each utterance. It was very Grootlike.

No one was surprised when Rapunzel refused to ever play D&D again.

Kristoff and Anna were married with much joy and merriment, and such set the tone for their marriage. There was more joy than despair, more fortune than tragedy, and more love than they thought possible—and always the weekly D&D campaigns, to which they added two adventurers: their son and daughter, born in the second year of their marriage.


End file.
